


Cauterize

by mcnegan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst, Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bodily Fluids, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Food Deprivation, Gore, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Imprisonment, Injury, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Punishment, Spanking, Suicide, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, mention of suicide, physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 65,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcnegan/pseuds/mcnegan
Summary: Jo vs. The Apocalypse: What does it take to survive the end of the world? Can Jo navigate her way through hordes of flesh-hungry monsters while facing off against a bat-wielding lunatic and his band of not-so-merry men?





	1. Giving Up

The end of the world was absolutely nothing like Jo had expected. She’d always imagined a nuclear bomb or even an imploding sun – something fast and brutal that would wipe out the entire human race before the poor bastards had a chance to feel a damn thing. That was her expectation, but not this. Not this desperate fight to survive, struggling to stay alive day in and day out while the dead roamed the earth. She never expected the world to come to an abrupt halt the way it had, leaving the people still inhabiting the forsaken planet to find some way to carry on existing.

The end had come nearly 2 years ago, give or take. Jo started counting the days a few months in, once she realized this wasn’t going to be over any time soon. It wasn’t as if the date mattered much – _nothing_ mattered anymore – but Jo took comfort in tallying up how many days she could manage to muddle through the shitty life she lead now. It was almost as if it was a game to her. 

It isn’t exactly easy living out your days in a world that exists in a kind of limbo, a world where everything is stagnant and at a standstill. After several years, the depleted environment and lack of necessary resources really starts to take it’s toll. 

Jo had started off strong, having the foresight to take whatever necessities she could shove into her small satchel before fleeing for her life. Her tiny, suburban hometown was overtaken rapidly the day the world ended. She’d been home alone when the corpses started walking, it happened fast and she never had the chance to find her parents or even say a farewell to them. She had known even then that there was no point in trying to track them down, they were most likely already dead and Jo needed to save herself. 

For so long, she battled with the burdensome guilt of her selfish choice. Though she soon realized that her feelings and emotions had grown numb after some time. There is little to no room for humanity in this kind of world, and Jo wasn’t immune to the effects of the dereliction of the lifestyle. Between the lengths you had to be willing to go to in order to save your own ass on top of the lack of human contact, this kind of existence was sure to change and harden a person – even a kind and innocent girl like Jo. 

She’d been mostly alone for the entirety of her new life. Sure, she’d interacted with a variety of people here and there, but she never stuck around long enough to team up with anyone she came across. Whether they meant her harm or would bring her down in one way or another, Jo wasn’t willing to risk the disadvantage of having that kind of baggage. 

Being petite and stealthy, she could easily infiltrate prospective buildings, slipping in and out with her plundered goods without a single soul knowing of her presence. That’s how she’d made it this far – never having to rely on or provide for anyone but herself. Sometimes Jo thought the protection of a partner or having a second set of eyes would be nice, but she valued her independence and strength too much for that. 

Unfortunately, the strength she once possessed is quickly wearing thin along with everything else. Food is scarce and Jo is running out of places to steal more supplies. All she has left are the clothes on her back and the spare outfit in her satchel, the scraps of expired, looted food stuffed in her bag, and the pistol loaded with only 3 bullets that she keeps tucked away in the waistband of her worn cargo pants. It hadn’t been much to begin with, and as the days pass it turns into less and less. 

The gun had been one of the first thing’s Jo stole at the genesis of the apocalypse; she’d acquired the weapon with every intention of lodging a bullet in her head. Her fear had prompted the plan, but that same fear also prevented her from ever following through with the desire. With her struggle growing with each passing day, the very notion becomes more and more appealing. What kind of world is this to live in? There’s nothing left here for anyone aside from strife, pain, and the evil that ungoverned people are capable of. There are no rules in this world. Even if there were, who is going to enforce them? No one. It’s a free-for-all, everything is fair game and nothing is off limits. It’s a dangerous and perilous way to live. Jo can’t see the point in continuing to exist in a world that is well and truly over. 

And so that’s where she is now. Back propped against the rough bark of a towering tree with her legs stretched out in front of her as the foreboding weight of her firearm seems to burn through the material stretched tight across her thighs. Her mind is flooded with an overflow of darkness, her memories of the past few years reminding her of everything she could have avoided if she’d only utilized the damn gun from the get-go. Jo runs her dirt-crusted fingers over the cold metal, almost lovingly caressing the weapon. If she would only sprout the balls to lift the barrel to her temple, she can end this once and for all. 

Letting out an airy sigh, Jo wraps her fingers around the butt of the pistol. Using her thumb, she cocks the hammer and the scraping of the mechanism fills her with both nervousness and some sense of serenity. She raises her arm slowly, elbow crooked and hand shaking as she brings the gun to her head. Jo closes her eyes, suddenly at peace with the choice she’s finally committed to making. 

Before she can suppress the trigger beneath her finger, the sound of crunching leaves rips her from her tranquil musings. Her defensive instincts kick in as she launches her taut body into a crouched stance. Jo holds her gun close to her as her eyes dart back and forth to scan her surroundings. The woods around her have fallen suspiciously silent, though she still sees no visible evidence of what caused the earlier abundance of rustling. Jo considers her options for a moment, debating whether she should wait out whatever is moving through the brush or if she should just make a run for it. Opting for the latter, she tucks her gun into the back of her pants before picking a direction and making a mad dash, weaving in and out of the trees. 

Using the scant reserves of her dwindling energy, Jo sprints with determination through the forest. Something that sounds vaguely like a masculine voice filters through the thickness of the bush, though Jo can’t be sure she isn’t just imaging the noise. She continues running until she reaches a narrow, trickling stream. Jo recognizes the small waterway as this area is where she’s spent a majority of the preceding years. Hopping to the opposite bank, she speedily trudges across the damp ground in the direction of the abandoned cabin she knows lies deep within the forest. 

The cabin is where Jo has camped out; a tiny, almost quaint building that would be near impossible to spot unless you knew where to look. It takes mere minutes for the hidden and dilapidated building to come into view, filling Jo with a sense of relief and safety. This is the closest she will ever come to going home these days, this shitty little shack is all she has left. 

Stepping onto the low, crumbling porch, Jo’s boots clomp dully across the rotting wood as she creaks open the door that barely hangs onto it’s hinges. Electricity is a long gone luxury, so Jo relies on the sunlight seeping into the house to help her spot any potential threats. Assuring herself that the cabin is free of any lurking danger, Jo eases the door shut behind her. She slides the lock in place for no other reason than to make herself feel better. The decrepit shack could be knocked over with only a strong gust of wind; if someone wanted to get to Jo, a weak and rusty bolt is going to do approximately nothing to stop them. 

Jo slips her satchel off of her body, dropping it with a thunk onto the lopsided table with a busted leg. She releases the snaps on the bag and reaches inside for the meager portion of grossly stale bread stashed inside. It’s the last of her food rations and the reminder of that fact fills her with dread. The idea of having to travel outside of the boundaries she’s already explored in order to feed herself and stay alive is one that terrifies her. It’s among the many reasons she’d been spending quality time with her firearm earlier. Times are growing more rough and she’s ready to give up. What has she been holding on to for all this time, anyway? 

Waylaying the invading thoughts that bog down her already weary mind, Jo swallows a dry mouthful of bread, wishing more than anything that she had some water left in the small canteen on the table. She crosses the filthy, leaf-coated floorboards as she climbs into the sad excuse for a bed tucked into the corner of the single room. Pulling the threadbare blanket over her weak and exhausted body, Jo plants her head into the lumpy, musty pillow. She ignores her growling stomach and tucks her arm under the inadequate pillow for support, curling her hand around the small knife she keeps hidden beneath her head each night. Ready to defend her life at a moment’s notice, Jo falls into a light and restless slumber, shoving her worries to the back of her mind until she’s prepared to face them in the morning.


	2. Arm Yourself

Sticking to a daily routine is about the only thing that keeps Jo sane, or mostly sane anyway. Every morning she rolls out of bed and follows the same steps to start her day. Some days she’ll change her clothes and underwear, depending on how long she’s been wearing the current outfit. On those days, she heads down to the nearby stream to rinse her filthy clothes, every time wishing she had something to eradicate the stench of sweat, dirt, and blood permeating the material. When it isn’t half-assed laundry day, Jo heads down to the stream to clean both herself and her long, brown hair. Without any kind of hygienic products, the most she can do is soak in the cool, fresh water. She’d kill for actual soap, kill twice for a razor.

After cleaning her body to a standard that would only serve as passable in a post-apocalyptic world, Jo sets out to search for breakfast. In the midst of her survival, she taught herself how to set traps which she’d check each morning, hoping to find any small animal caught in them. Some days she struck gold and other days she resigned herself to eating berries and insects to supplement her body. In the beginning, the idea of surviving off the land like this made her stomach churn, but Jo quickly overcame her squeamishness and learned to do whatever she had to in order to live. 

Today seemed to be keeping up with Jo’s recent theme of misery and defeat as she’d found every single one of her homemade traps regrettably empty. Even scavenging for plant life and bugs had proven unsuccessful, not being enough to suppress the starvation cramping her stomach. She can’t even recall the last time her body had received any real nutrition and the utter lack of food is definitely starting to rear it’s ugly head. 

All of Jo’s limbs feel weak and shaky, her level of energy is near non-existent, and the migraine screaming through her skull is making her want to curl up and die. She knows her diminishing body is becoming a threat to her safety. It won’t be long before the hallucinations begin and delirium sets in. She needs to find food as soon as possible if she has any hope of being able to defend herself or carry on. 

With much deliberation and hesitation, Jo decides she needs _real_ food, and that means venturing out of the safety of the woods and back into suburbia. Most of the houses and buildings she’s been inside out there have already been thoroughly looted, however her desperation has her prepared for a last ditch effort to search through everything one more time. 

The early morning air has yet to be tainted by the heavy Georgian humidity and Jo is grateful for that small fact; her weak body is in no shape to withstand that kind of heat. Still, Jo soaks a ratty, black handkerchief in the trickling stream and ties it around the nape of her neck in preparation for the oncoming rise in temperature. 

Jo navigates her way through the thinnest areas of brush, carefully moving and making as little noise as possible while still playing close attention to her surroundings. The roamers haven’t been much of an issue for Jo where she lives, though their presence always seems to grow more prevalent in the once residential areas. She supposed the open space as well as the commotion caused by the few people still populating the homes had been reason enough for the dead to continue milling around in the area. 

Reaching the edge of the woods, Jo scans her eyes over the dirt road and wide expanse of open field that separates her from her destination. From here, she can see the close-knit row of cookie-cutter houses and she can also see that her path to them is blissfully clear of wandering beings – both living and dead. Jo secures her cross-body bag across her chest and adjusts the gun tucked into her waistband before emerging from the shelter of the forest. 

Clouds of brown dirt rise into the air as Jo’s boots scuffle across the broad road. Both out of habit and a need for reassurance, Jo looks both ways before crossing the open road. She quickly reaches the other side, climbing down a shallow ditch before starting the trek across the empty field. The tall grass is almost up to her hip and Jo absentmindedly runs her hands over the blades, letting them tickle her fingers as she strides with purpose towards the abandoned neighborhood. 

Having been here before, Jo knows the houses have all been busted open already, which will at least save her the trouble of having to break in to each one. As she approaches the back side of the line of residences, she makes her way to the one situated to the far left, the one she knows sits at the dead end of the street. Jo pushes through the splintered wooden fence surrounding the back yard and makes her way to the gaping opening that had once housed a sliding glass door. Jo’s boots crunch loudly over a layer of shattered glass as she sneaks inside. She finds herself in the kitchen of the ramshackle house, though it’s evident the room has already been entirely ransacked, probably more than once. 

Jo kicks her feet through the numerous piles of rubble covering the floor, hoping to spot something edible. As expected, she comes up empty-handed, so she expands her search to the rest of the house. Each room has suffered much the same fate, all items within having been overturned and torn to pieces in someone else’s hunt for supplies. 

For several hours, Jo continues her scavenging, growing more and more frustrated with the unfortunate results of her efforts. Trudging into what feels like the hundredth house, Jo’s malnourished body starts to shut down. Between the creeping heat and the dregs of energy she’s been expending all morning, Jo needs to give her failing legs a break. She drops her sluggish and sweat-soaked form onto the cushions of a disgusting, battered couch. A haze of dust explodes from the upholstery and surrounds her as she leans her head back. Jo tips sideways, unable to even remain in a seated position. Her body is so exhausted it’s almost painful. 

Just as Jo decides she’s going to die right here on this smelly couch, a small reflection catches her eye. She rolls her body to the edge of the sofa to gain a better vantage point of what lies beneath the glass end table. Not believing her eyes, Jo tosses herself onto her hands and knees, crawling hastily across the floor. She drops her face close to the shiny object, gasping loudly as all of her hunger-fueled dreams come true. There among the thickness of dirt coating the floor sits a half-eaten granola bar, it’s foil wrapper reflecting the sunlight like a shining beacon of hope. 

Jo snatches up the holy treat, cradling it gently in her hand as if it is made of glass, like it’s so fragile it might burst into a pile of dust if she isn’t careful. Slowly, she peels the wrapper away from the crumbling granola, tears nearly forming in her eyes at the revelation of actual food. Jo meticulously plucks bits of dirt and fuzz from the exposed end of the bar before lifting it to her mouth to take a tentative bite. The granola is far beyond stale and completely tasteless, but Jo doesn’t mind one bit. She chews with determination, savoring the bland mush before taking another bite. Still on her knees beneath the table, Jo very much resembles a feral rodent, nibbling upon some tasty bit of garbage it’s discovered. 

It takes less than five more bites for Jo to finish the bar; she licks her fingers, sticking them inside the crinkled wrapper to make sure she gathers every last crumb and grain of oat. When she’s done licking every inch of the foil wrapper, Jo drops it and moves to get up. However, in her sweet oaten haze, she forgets she’s hunched under a table and her speedy movement causes her to smash the back of her skull against the underside of the table. The force of the impact prompts the massive lamp perched atop the piece of furniture to wobble off balance and tip over. In an effort to halt the falling lamp, Jo manages to bump into the table again, sending both the lamp and table crashing to the ground in an explosion of glass and ceramic shards. 

Jo stands still for a moment, shock holding her prisoner before she realizes she needs to get out. The obnoxious racket she just made is sure to have attracted some sort of attention and she isn’t about to stick around to see whether that attention is live or dead. 

Jo trots hurriedly towards the back door, the lingering weakness in her limbs a clear indicator that a few mouthfuls of an old granola bar isn’t going to be enough to sustain her. Accepting that she’ll have to come back here in the very near future, Jo slips out of the house and into the overgrown lawn. Distracted by her need to escape and with her senses dulled from exhaustion, Jo almost doesn’t register the sound of throaty gurgles emanating from directly behind her. 

When the pressure of a cold, dead hand touches her arm, her brain immediately processes the noise. Whirling around to face the horrifying creature coming at her, Jo swings her fist, catching the drooling beast right in the jaw. The blow is enough to buy her a few seconds and let her escape the walker’s grasp to sprint towards the broken wooden fence. With her undead pursuant hot on her heels, Jo nearly has a heart attack when her t-shirt snags on the splintered edge of one of the wooden planks. 

She pulls despairingly on the thin material of her shirt, splinters digging into her knuckles as she fights to free herself. Among the sound of her panicked, heaving breaths and the walker’s guttural chorus, Jo doesn’t hear the sound of approaching voices. With one last harsh yank, Jo tears her shirt, freeing herself as she stumbles backwards to the ground. The growling walker towers above her and Jo feels the cold tendrils of fear wrapping around her. She’s been ready to die for months, but being torn to shreds by a flesh-eating monster isn’t exactly the kind of demise she was hoping for. 

As the walker closes in on her, a deafening crack rips through the air. At the same time as the loud boom, Jo feels a warm flood of moisture raining down on her. The stench of rotten flesh assaults her nose and when she glances up, she sees half the walker’s head has been blown off. Once she realizes she’s just been showered with putrid walker guts, Jo rubs her bloody knuckles across her mouth, cleaning the offensive goo from her chapped lips. She doesn’t bother waiting around to thank her phantom savior, instead she scrambles to her feet and sets off across the vast field with the sound of muffled voices calling after her. 

Jo doesn’t remember the field being quite so massive when she traversed it this morning, and her adrenaline is doing nothing in her favor. Panting and whimpering, she prays for her pathetically flimsy legs to carry her much faster than they are. She doesn’t know if the person with that gun is a threat, but her close call with the walker had been more than enough to fray her nerves and send her fleeing. 

Jo breathes a sigh of relief when she finally reaches the dirt road, a mere few feet separating her from the security of the woods. In her haste, Jo missteps in the shallow ditch along the edge of the road, twisting her ankle and going down hard in the process. She lands face first, knocking her head forcefully on the ground. The second blow to her head today is more severe and slightly disorienting. Jo rolls over onto her back, her body bent nearly in half, draped over the small ditch. 

In the distance, the faint rumbling of a powerful engine grows closer. Before long, the vehicle is near enough that Jo can hear the gravel crunching beneath the tires. She has no idea who this is or even whether they’re actually after her, but she knows she needs to hide. Finally gathering the strength to get back on her feet, Jo spots the monstrous vehicle thundering down the road. Even from here, she can tell how huge the truck is and how aggressively it’s being driven in her direction. 

Stumbling slightly, Jo sprints across the dusty road and wobbles into the woods. Though she feels a bit safer within the cover of the trees, she knows whoever is behind the wheel of the swiftly approaching truck has already spotted her. If they are in fact after her, she’s screwed. Not wanting to lead her possible follower directly to her only safe dwelling, Jo remains in the expansive stretch of woods, hidden among the thick tree trunks. Worry streaks through her body when the growling of the engine ceases abruptly, even more so when the echo of a slamming door is promptly followed by the sound of footsteps stomping through the underbrush towards her.


	3. Radical Change

Crouched behind the widest tree trunk she can locate, Jo tries to steady her breathing. She hopes the girth of the massive tree will shield her from the view of the person after her, but she knows if they continue wandering in her direction, she’s bound to be spotted. The sound of footsteps grows closer and more distinct, accompanied by a sharp, two-tone whistle. Further along the road comes a responding whistle and Jo realizes there’s more than one person looking for her. As they move further and further into the throng of trees, Jo wonders whether she can outrun the owner of the heavy footfalls and eerie whistles. Her window of opportunity is steadily shrinking, so she makes her move.

Pushing away from the tree, Jo pumps her legs as hard as she can, which isn’t much. Behind her, she hears one long whistle and a deep chuckle, letting her know that her pursuer is male and he’s spotted her. She runs in the opposite direction of her rundown home, hoping to throw the man off her trail and let him think he’s wasting his time trying to track her down. Once he goes back to minding his own business, Jo can go home. 

She slows down to a light jog, listening over the sound of her own footsteps for any indication of movement around her. Directly to her right, a twig snaps and a young man steps into her path. She immediately changes direction, adrenaline fueling her minuscule burst of speed as she heads basically back the way she’d just come. By the time she realizes her mistake, another man steps out from behind a tree. With a gasp, Jo takes off in the other direction, heading away from both men. She’d already tapped the last reserves of her energy and then some, so she’s barely able to move beyond a slow jog. She’s partially relieved to hear only one set of trotting footsteps behind her. 

“C'mon now, is this any way to thank the guy who saved you?” a smooth, deep voice calls out to her. 

Rage fills Jo right away upon hearing his words. There’s only one way she can imagine a man wanting to be thanked for common decency, and she is wholly not on board with it. The man behind her isn’t the first creeping rapist pig she’s come across, and he surely won’t be the last. She’d managed to remain untouched by any man, even before the world went to shit, and she has no intention of letting that change now. 

Unfortunately, her body seems to have totally different plans. Without any hope of catching herself, Jo gets caught up on a downed branch and falls to the ground. It takes mere seconds for the man following her to catch up. She rolls over, regarding him with a harsh scowl. 

“Why the face? I hope you’re not putting this on me,” he defends. “Not my fault you tried to run.” 

The tall man towering over her possesses a dark, rich voice that – in most any other situation – may have been soothing. This man is slightly older than the first one she’d encountered and his face is decorated with a neat, almost impressive mustache. When the man takes another step closer to Jo, she panics. Scooting backwards across the ground, she holds up a placating hand. The man merely tucks his thumbs into his thick belt, right alongside a holstered pistol, and quirks an eyebrow. 

“Come on, up you get,” he demands with a tilt of his head. 

“No, no please. We can make a deal,” Jo offers, trying anything to stall and devise some plan to get away. She isn’t afraid, but she’ll let this guy think she’s weak. The more he underestimates her, the better. 

“That’s right, we can. I’m gonna have to take all your stuff, but then we can move forward,” he agrees, nodding towards the bag tightened across Jo’s body. 

Jo remains silent, watching the man with widened eyes. When he holds his hand out expectantly, she moves as slowly as possible, rising to her feet. She wraps a hand around the strap of the bag, acting as if she’s going to hand it over. Before she can pull the bag up and over her head, Jo twirls to make a break for it. The man yells after her, commanding her to stop, but Jo pays him no attention. He’s running behind her almost instantly, prompting Jo to act in self-defense and yank her gun from the back of her pants. 

Not bothering to stop and aim, Jo stretches her arm out behind her, firing off two consecutive shots. She stops running momentarily, spinning around to check behind her. She lays eyes on the mustached man who has also stopped running. Jo tries to determine whether she’s hit him, and when his expression of shock transforms to one of anger, she knows she hasn’t. They both take off again, and Jo fires her last shot, emptying her gun. This time when she stops and turns, she’s met with a very solid mass of chest. 

“Simon?!” a voice calls from the distance. 

The man in front of Jo turns his head, letting her know that he must be Simon. 

“We’re good,” Simon calls before returning his attention to Jo. Seeing that she’s making no more attempt to injure him, he assumes that her gun is probably empty. “I’ll take your weapon…now,” he demands seriously. 

Jo continues to disobey, backing away while hiding the gun behind her back. Even though it’s empty, Jo doesn’t want to give up her gun and sole means of defense. 

“I suggest you listen and stop fighting. It’s best you cooperate,” Simon asserts. Though his tone is somewhat kind, the underlying threat is abundantly clear. 

With a frustrated whimper of defeat, Jo finally relents and surrenders her weapon. Simon nods his head approvingly, a tiny smile peeking out from beneath his thick mustache. He motions for Jo to hand over the bag as well, but she clings tightly to it. The gun was enough, she isn’t handing this over as well. She’s far too strong to just bow down and give in to anyone who thinks she owes them shit. 

“Either your stuff is going with me or you are,” Simon warns, his tone relaying that his patience is wearing thinner by the minute. 

Just then, Simon’s partner joins them in the clearing of the forest. His face is much more menacing as he watches the tense exchange between his partner and Jo. 

“Alright, have it your way,” Simon shrugs before addressing the younger man. “Load her up.” 

“No wait, no,” Jo begs, backing away from the men as they close in on her. “We can talk about it.” 

“Done talkin’, time to listen,” Simon responds shortly. 

“Don’t touch me,” Jo yells, lashing out at the younger man when he reaches for her. Though she tries to wriggle away, the man refuses to let Jo break free. 

“Plenty of ways to get to where we’re goin’. Up to you whether or not it goes smoothly…for you,” Simon informs her. 

Seeing that begging is going to get her nowhere, Jo decides to fight. She yanks her arm from the man’s grasp before turning around to punch him directly in the nose. The crunch of bone and the proceeding flow of blood is satisfying to say the least. However, before Jo can basque in her small victory, her arms are restrained behind her back and she feels the coarse texture of rope as it’s threaded around her wrists in a tight knot. She squirms against it, but her meager struggle is no match for Simon’s strength. Simon lifts her from the ground and easily tosses her frail body over his shoulder. Jo kicks her legs wildly, doing her damnedest to get the brutish man to drop her. Her flailing achieves nothing as they eventually reach the truck and Simon pushes her into the front seat, tucking her between himself and his bleeding friend. 

“You should be extra nice to someone offering help. You never know which day is gonna be your last,” Simon chides. “Based on the fact that you’re barely skin and bones, I’d say your last day would’ve been pretty soon if not for me.” 

Jo settles into the soft leather of the truck’s seats. If she could, she’d have her arms twisted petulantly across her chest. Simon starts the truck with a deep growl, directing it along the dirt road and onto a paved street until they reach a highway. Jo starts to panic then, unsure where these men are taking her and what their intentions are. The truck speeds along the roadway, quickly taking Jo away from the last place she feels safe anymore. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

After over an hour of driving and occasionally listening to Simon softly singing along to 80’s pop songs playing on the radio, Jo realizes that their surroundings are changing. The entire trip, they’ve driven through miles and miles of trees; now every once in a while, the occasional building will peek through the breaks in the trees. The buildings all appear to be old, abandoned factories and Jo can’t help thinking they’re going to bring her to one to kill her. Her thoughts are interrupted when Simon slows the truck down to ease it off the approaching exit. 

Jo loses track of all the turns Simon makes before eventually driving towards a massive industrial building. From a distance, Jo can see a fence surrounding the perimeter of the building and unlike all the other factories she’d seen, this one is teeming with life. Within the boundaries of the chain link walls, she can see several groups of people moving about, as well as a whole fleet of cargo trucks, RV’s, and other vehicles. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Jo is already in awe of this place. 

“Welcome to where we’re goin’,” Simon announces with a toothy grin. “This is the Sanctuary.” 

They reach the gates of the property and are immediately granted access. Simon drives the truck through the gravel lot, angling it towards what looks like a freight entrance before killing the engine. He slides out of the truck and reaches for Jo, gently lifting her from the cab of the truck and settling her on the ground. Tilting her head back, Jo takes in the grand building. She scans over the massive structure as well as the surrounding grounds, taking in all the people around who seem to be tending to one important thing or another. 

As they stand there, a thin man with stringy blonde hair approaches. He spares only a moment to look at the blood-covered man and tells him to go see someone named Dr. Carson before making his way over to Simon. 

“Negan is busy. Said to bring everything in for inventory and just report back to him tonight if you have to,” the thin man intones. “Any problems?” he asks, flicking his eyes over Jo’s restrained form. It’s then she notices the severe burns marring half of his face, the scarring gives his appearance a more rugged and terrifying quality. 

“Not a one, D,” Simon assures him. “We’ll put this little bird in the cells until boss man decides what he wants to do with her,” Simon decides, handing Jo off to the blonde man. “Oh hey, none of those dog food sandwiches for her. She needs food,” he adds as an afterthought, pointing a finger in the other man’s direction. 

Jo is curious about what the hell Simon meant by that and exactly what kind of people she’d be dealing with here. Now virtually in the possession of this other man, Jo follows him through a set of metal doors and down a series of long, dark hallways. They reach a hall lined with steel doors and the man leads her to the third one, sliding a key into the lock and swinging it open. Peering inside, Jo is surprised to find it fully empty inside; the room is nothing more than a tiny cement cube. Before letting her in, the blonde man takes a knife to cut her bag off her body and pushes her against the wall to brace herself while he removes her boots. 

The man gives her a gentle shove, forcing her into the room and slamming the door shut behind her. The room falls pitch black, the heavy door letting absolutely no light in. Jo presses her back to one of the walls, using it to keep her balance as she slides to the ground. She has no idea who these people are or why she’s seemingly being punished for no apparent reason, but she’s determined not to let them win over her.


	4. So You're Afraid

A solid, ice cold cement floor is by far one of the worst places to fall asleep. Jo is learning that the hard way. Even in the Southern heat, the concrete composition of the cell refuses to let the temperature rise above anything that doesn’t make Jo’s nipples hard enough to cut glass and her body shake violently enough to register on the Richter scale. Growling in pure annoyance, she curls into herself, trying to mooch off of what little heat her body is putting out. Since being tossed in here like a stray, no one has returned for Jo. Hours have passed and she wonders if she’s just been forgotten or intentionally left to rot.

Just then, a strange sound filters into the dark hole Jo has been relegated to. Straining her ears, she’s able to determine the oddly peppy music is streaming in from further down the hallway. She can’t imagine why anyone would subject themselves to listening to such an annoying song, isn’t the end of the world sufferance enough? Jo sucks it up, blocking out the happy lyrics and bracing herself for whatever song this person chooses to put on next. Much to her horror, when the music fades, the same damn song starts up again. 

Jo rolls her eyes in aggravation, kicking her legs out like a toddler throwing a tantrum and sprawling across the dusty floor. The pain shooting up her arms multiplies when she lays on her back, crushing her own bound hands beneath her. She takes several deep breaths and tries to stay calm, not letting her anger get the best of her. She is already upset with herself for her weakness in the forest and for letting herself get captured, she doesn’t want to add irrational anger to her pile of lacking self control. Remaining calm proves to be much more difficult as the irritating song plays on a continuous loop for what’s beginning to feel like days. If she hears the phrase “easy street” one more time, she’s going to lose her mind. 

After endless hours of aural torture, Jo is ready to kill someone with her bare hands. With her arms restrained, she can’t even cover her ears to defend herself against the never-ending music. Instead, she has her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth grind with rage as she tries to hum a different tune to herself. In her riled state, she nearly lunges at the door to her cell when it creaks open. She’s ready to tear into whoever is brave – or stupid – enough to venture straight into the path of her simmering rage. 

“Turn that shit off,” the silhouette in the doorway calls, his head turned down the hall. He turns back to Jo again, “Sorry about that, special treatment for one of our other prisoners.” 

Upon hearing that her torture has merely been collateral damage from someone else’s punishment, Jo is on the verge of exploding. She remains on the ground, though she finally stops humming, not that it had done much in the way of defending her sanity. 

“Here’s some food,” the man offers softly. “I’m Dwight, by the way. I’m in charge of you for the time being…until Negan decides what to do with you.” 

Though his words are delivered with no venom, they leave a foul taste in Jo’s mouth. She hates that her fate is being forced into the hands of this Negan fellow, whoever the hell he is. She absolutely does not need someone else making decisions for her or trying to tell her what to do. Jo remains motionless and silent, making no effort to accept the food being offered to her. Pride makes it’s way to the forefront of her priorities, taking precedence over any other feeling she’s having. If these assholes want to keep her here as a prisoner, she’s going to make the experience as miserable for them as it is for her. 

“You need to eat,” Dwight commands, his tone quickly losing it’s touch of kindness. 

The strain in his words finally prompts Jo to flick her eyes open. The first thing she sees in the dim light is the blonde man with the scarred face crouching over her. Dwight. When he sees her vague acknowledgement of his presence, Dwight extends his arm further, shaking the plate in his hand in Jo’s direction. On the plate sits a perfectly crafted sandwich, and even from here Jo can smell it. The savory aroma causes her stomach to growl loudly and if she wasn’t so dehydrated, she’d be willing to bet money that she’d be drooling and foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. 

Sticking to her plan, Jo knows eating this proffered meal means submitting to these people and she can’t do that. She sits up slowly, her bound hands making the task more difficult. Dwight watches Jo struggle, his eyes remaining on her the whole time before he picks up the sandwich and holds it out to her. Fuck this guy if he thinks she is going to eat out of his hand like a goddamn animal. Once she’s fully upright, Jo whips her head around, smashing into Dwight’s hand and upending the contents of her meal all over the floor. The sandwich separates in an array of pieces; meat, cheese, lettuce and bread slapping down onto the concrete. The vexed look on Dwight’s face is reason enough for Jo’s satisfaction to win out over her disappointment over ruining a meal she very much wanted. 

“Okay,” Dwight states simply, picking up the dirty bits of sandwich and piling them up on the plate. 

Dwight stands then, regarding Jo with a disappointed look before exiting the cell and locking her back up. She’s glad he collected the bits of her ruined lunch, not knowing if she would’ve had the discipline to resist peeling each part of the sandwich off the floor with her teeth in her desperation for food. Relieved to have that temptation removed from her limited options, Jo lays her head back down on the hard floor and forces herself to sleep. With not much else to do in this prison, Jo knows she’ll be spending most of her time in here sleeping to wile away the hours. 

This is how Jo’s life carries on for nearly three days; a twisted routine that she’s unwilling to break. Sleep, refuse to eat, earn several disapproving looks from Dwight, go back to sleep. Her lack of food and water is seriously wearing on her now, and Jo prays death will have mercy and put her out of her misery soon. Miraculously, she has yet to be punished for her insolence, though she’s not sure if that’s due to consideration for her fragile condition or because of instructions from the mysterious fate-holding Negan. Dwight has warned her about him several times, but seeing as she is unharmed, Negan either hasn’t been informed of her disobedience or just isn’t anywhere near as scary as everyone seems to think he is. 

On the fourth day, Jo is totally incapacitated with lethargy. She wonders whether they’ll start force feeding her or if they’ll just kill her instead. Maybe they will take her out of here and send her to this Dr. Carson character she’d heard about previously. If she could just get out of this goddamn cell, she can probably escape somehow. Before her murky brain can try to devise an efficient plan, the cell door swings open once more. 

Jo is surprised to see two dusty pairs of boots stepping into the room. Too weak to move, she merely rolls her eyes upwards, her gaze falling on the familiar faces of Dwight and Simon. Apparently Dwight had grown sick of Jo and decided to call in backup. Just as well, he can call in an army of men and she still won’t give in. She’ll let herself starve to death and die, but at least she’d die with some dignity knowing she hadn’t surrendered to these barbarians. 

“We done playing this game yet, girl?” Simon’s velvety voice wonders. “You’re gonna die if you don’t eat and we can’t have that.” 

Jo is unable to fight when Simon grips her shoulders, gently tilting her body up and propping her against the wall. Her eyes can barely stay open and her whole body vibrates as it’s too feeble to keep itself remotely warm anymore. Jo can even feel that the rhythm of her heartbeat seems slower and for a moment she wonders if this has really been worth it. 

“Tell you what, you eat something and we’ll see about getting you out of this cell,” Simon offers quietly. 

Jo doesn’t respond in any capacity. She isn’t stupid enough to fall for that. And she certainly isn’t so naïve to believe that she’s ever going to get out of here; not just out of the cell, but out of this building and away from these people. Why bother giving up her fight when it isn’t even going to benefit her in any way? No, she absolutely isn’t going to eat. 

“Whaddya wanna do with this?” Dwight asks in exasperation from behind Simon’s stooped form. 

“We’re gonna go get Negan,” Simon says, grinning evilly. 

With that, both men exit the cell, leaving the door open with the knowledge that Jo isn’t going anywhere. The moment their footsteps fall out of earshot, another silhouette blocks the open doorway. Jo raises her bleary eyes to the dark mass, unable to identify any features of the person other than the fact that they’re male. Even in the darkness, Jo can tell from the man’s short, stocky build that this is neither Simon nor Dwight. Swallowing thickly with her dry, scratchy throat, Jo watches the man slink into the room. Something about him is setting off all kinds of alarms in Jo’s mind, even in her indisposed state. 

“Hey there, you okay?” his voice rasps. 

“Can I get some water?” she pleads lowly, thinking of any way to get him out of the room until Simon and Dwight return. 

The man hovers in a crouched position in front of Jo, leaning far too close to her before speaking. “I should introduce myself…I’m David. I wonder if you remember me from the other day. Do you?” 

Jo shakes her head in denial of the man’s question. She’s lying, but he doesn’t know that. She does in fact recognize the man – he’s the one whose nose she’d probably broken the day she was captured in the woods. 

“I can forgive that. It was kind of a shitstorm when we met. I’m the guy who you decked in the face. Remember?” he asks, malice dripping from every word. There’s not much Jo is afraid of, but something about this man is setting her on edge. 

David reaches a hand towards Jo, running his fingertips up and down her forearm. She cringes at the unwanted touch and tries to move away, but she can’t get very far. With her wrists still bound behind her back, the most she can do is twist her shoulders and pull her arm away from his hand momentarily. 

“God, you’re pretty,” David whispers. “If I give you some water, which is _not_ something I’m supposed to do…will you do something for me? Something you’re not supposed to do.” 

Jo has heard enough of this disgusting man’s mumbled words and now she wants him to shut the fuck up. Kicking out with one limp leg, she can only manage to knock him off balance. Catching himself with his left hand, he pushes himself back towards Jo. Now he’s even closer and Jo is even more uncomfortable. This time, she collects what little saliva she can gather in her parched mouth and launches the spit all over the man’s angry visage. 

In a flash, David’s calloused, chunky fingers are wrapped around Jo’s throat and rapidly tightening. He exerts a painful amount of force on her windpipe, cutting off her flow of oxygen while his fingertips gouge her soft flesh. She flails weakly in an attempt to escape the man’s grasp, but she has no hope of fighting him off. His hand is so restricting she can’t even cough or choke, not a single iota of oxygen enters or leaves her lungs. Just as black dots edge her vision and she feels herself growing lightheaded, Jo hears the sweet musical sound of voices heading down the hallway in the direction of her cell. David hears the voices as well, instantly releasing Jo’s slender neck and standing up to run from the room. 

Jo gasps harshly, sucking in a huge gulp of air before coughing so hard her throat starts to burn. She can still hear the indistinct voices from down the hall and she wonders what is taking them so long to reach her. She may hate Simon and Dwight, but neither of them have hurt her and she’d much rather be around them than left alone to be choked out again. After a few minutes, Jo manages to get her breathing under control, though she can already tell her skin is definitely going to be sore and bruised in no time. 

Finally, Jo is relieved to hear several sets of footsteps stomping purposefully down the hall. A foreboding form fills the doorway; the man is quite tall and broad. This must be Negan. When he steps into the cell, Jo gets a decent look at him. He’s handsome in a rugged, menacing sort of way, but now isn’t the time to be thinking about his looks. Jo is infinitely more concerned about the horrifying weapon swinging from the man’s fingers – a long wooden baseball bat, the wide end adorned with a garland of sharp barbed wire. So this is it then. Jo is going to be beat into a pile of mush for refusing to eat. What a way to go. 

“My my, it must be _Christmas_ ,” the towering man exclaims. “What was a pretty, young thing like you doing out there all by your lonesome? How in the hell did you make it this far?” 

Jo hates the implication behind his words; how dare he insinuate that it’s such a stretch to believe that she had taken care of herself. Just because she’s young and a girl, she’s incapable? Fuck this guy, too. Keeping her face neutral, she doesn’t respond, just stares straight ahead at the man’s shins. 

“Huh, no matter,” he continues, unbothered by Jo’s silence. “You’re here now. So what’s your name, sweetheart?” 

Jo lifts her eyes, meeting Negan’s expectant gaze. She glares coldly at him, her distaste clear even in her hazy eyes. He can take his little pet names and shove them right up his ass with his stupid bat. Jo stares defiantly at the man, standing her ground and still not speaking. He snorts softly before propping his bat near the door and approaching her. 

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” he teases, crouched directly in front of her. 

Negan reaches out to grip Jo’s jaw, presumably in an attempt to assert some sort of manly dominance over her, but she swiftly tilts her head to the side and out of his reach. The angle of her head lifts her chin and the light from outside illuminates her throat, practically shining a spotlight on the deep red marks coloring the pale skin. Negan’s smug smirk immediately falls, a scowl of displeasure taking it’s place. 

“What the fuck is this?” he hisses, pressing a single gloved finger under Jo’s jaw to tip her head further. “Simon!” he barks, the unexpected volume of his voice causes Jo to jump slightly. 

“Yeah, boss?” Simon answers from the doorway. 

“She have bruises on her neck when you found her?” Negan asks, not taking his eyes off Jo’s. 

“Nah man,” Simon assures him. “She was perfectly fine when I got her…just skinny as hell.” 

Negan hums in response before moving on to interrogate Dwight. “Dwighty boy, you do this shit?” 

“No, sir. I came to get you ‘cause she wouldn’t eat. I never laid a hand on her,” Dwight promises. 

“They tellin’ the truth?” Negan wonders, raising his eyes in Jo’s direction. When she doesn’t offer an answer, he tries again. “Who did this?” 

Negan waits for several long seconds, exercising more patience than Jo had thought would be possible. Before long, he shoos Dwight and Simon away, thinking that their presence may be playing a part in Jo’s hesitation to speak. Little does he know how wrong he is, nothing he can do will make her open her mouth. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who did this. This isn’t how we treat our guests and I gotta get to the bottom of this,” Negan prompts. Jo doesn’t miss the way that he refers to her as a guest rather than a prisoner. How delusional. “Tell me who did this to you,” he demands lowly. 

Still mute, Jo merely stares at Negan like he’s an absolute idiot. It’s only a matter of time before he grows tired of her blatant disobedience. There has to be a limit to how many times these guys will try the same tactic over and over with no result before they do something else with her. Negan blows a sharp huff between his lips, his frustration starting to show. 

“I can see you don’t wanna be in here, and that’s fine. I sure as hell won’t lose any sleep over it,” he drawls. “But I’m telling you right now…if you don’t eat, your skinny little ass is never getting out. So you eat something and then we’ll talk,” he proposes coldly before he stands up and drifts out of the cell, slamming the door hard behind him. 

Within a few minutes, Dwight is back with more food, wordlessly bringing it over to Jo. She wishes her hands were free, but she has too much pride to make that request. Not that it even matters as she’s about to swallow a majority of her pride right alongside the plate of fruit Dwight holds. On top of the disappointment of giving in to her captors, Jo is humiliated when Dwight starts to hand feed her forkfuls of fruit. She quickly forgets her shame when the sweet nectar of a juicy strawberry floods her mouth. She barely restrains a moan, her tongue and stomach both equally happy that she’s finally eating again. 

After polishing off the entire platter of fruit and being left on her own again, Jo feels better already. Her body feels less and less disgusting and weak and she’s ready to get the hell out of here. She rests her head against the wall behind her to take a nap when she hears a key scraping into the lock. Clearly Negan is eager to negotiate with Jo and get her out of his hair. Probably as eager as she is to get this damn rope off her wrists and get out of this claustrophobic cell.


	5. Sympathy

Unbeknownst to Jo, the figure outside her door is anyone but Negan. The door opens quickly and by the time Jo recognizes the man standing before her, she knows she’s in trouble. David reaches around to shut the door gently, not taking his eyes off of Jo. The sinister smile on his face is sickening and Jo suddenly feels even more trapped in the small cell.

David wastes no time crowding Jo’s space, kneeling in front of her and stretching a hand out to touch her. Anger clouds her mind as he massages her shoulder and across her collarbone, dangerously close to her chest. That anger comes to a head when David grips the neck of her t-shirt, yanking it away from her body and causing a large tear through the material. When he lets go, the front of Jo’s shirt flaps open, exposing her chest and part of her plain black bra. 

“Time to pay up,” David whispers, leaning in towards her face. “Tell me how much you want it,” he hisses in her ear. 

Jo responds immediately, lurching forward to smash her forehead into David’s face. She hears a small crunch and hopes like hell she’s broken his fucking nose for the second time. David tumbles backwards, landing on his back on the cold floor of the cell, rolling around in pain as he clutches his injured face. He leans up on an elbow, wheezing out an unamused laugh as he brings his blood covered hand away from his face and observes it. 

“Fighting is just gonna make it last longer,” he warns, bringing himself to his knees as he reaches down to undo his belt buckle. “Which for the record…is fine by me.” 

Jo starts to worry now. As if she hadn’t already known what he meant to do to her, there is absolutely no doubt about it now. She shuffles hastily, pushing herself into the corner of the cell, though it provides no relief for her distress. She has nowhere to hide as David advances on her and for the first time in a very long time, Jo feels the strangling grip of fear; her whole body shakes, her throat tightens, and she feels her mind reeling in preparation for the oncoming trauma. 

Before David can make any more progress in his undressing, a thunderous bang echoes against the steel door of the cell just as it whips open. As the door opens, an angry masculine voice calls out, bringing David’s actions to an abrupt stop. Jo is almost relieved at the sight of the notorious Negan, still dressed in the same plain white t-shirt and gray pants from earlier. With his bat firmly in hand, he smashes it once against the metal frame of the open doorway. 

“What the hell are you doin’ in here?” Negan mutters quietly, a curious smile branding his face. When David dares to open his mouth to defend his obvious intentions, Negan immediately interrupts him. “Do you _really_ think I need you to answer that?” he counters with a snicker. “I can see that you’re trying to rape this woman. _You_ …were trying to rape this woman, weren’t you?” 

The tension in the room grows stronger as David remains silent. Negan lets out a disapproving sigh as he inches closer to where David is now standing. Jo watches the exchange from the corner, still shaking in terror as she curls up to make herself as small as possible. 

“This is some unacceptable behavior. Rape is against the rules here, I wouldn’t wanna be somewhere where it wasn’t,” Negan orates in a low but firm tone. “Someone in charge who lets something like that fly?” he trails off, blowing out a huff of disbelief at the hypothetical statement as he unsheathes the massive knife hanging off his belt. 

David seems to react then, his fear written all over his face. He knows he fucked up and he has no way out of this. He shifts nervously on his feet as Negan lifts the silver blade between their faces. Negan twists the handle of the knife so the light reflects off various points of the gleaming weapon, an eerie grin splitting his face. 

“David…you really crossed a line here,” the smile on his lips contradicting his obvious displeasure with the man’s behavior. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, sir,” David stutters breathily. 

Negan observes him for a long moment, clearly unimpressed with the man and his pathetic apology. Jo watches anxiously, waiting to see how Negan is going to handle this. She just wants to be left alone to process what almost happened to her. The faster Negan metes out a punishment, the faster she can get to doing exactly that. Moving quickly, Negan raises his right arm, plunging the length of his knife into the side of David’s neck and forcing it to protrude out the other side. 

“You know what…I _do not_ accept your apology,” Negan claims cheerfully. David’s eyes widen in pain and fear before Negan yanks the blood-slicked blade out of David’s neck and lets his heavy body drop to the floor with a loud thump. 

Jo is pretty much unfazed as she watches she dying man fall to the ground, gurgling as he chokes on his own blood. The animal deserves much worse than what Negan has brought down on him. With all of her attention on David, she doesn’t see Negan turn towards her. His sigh of exasperation reminds her of his presence and she slowly lifts her eyes to look up at him. Before acknowledging her, Negan whistles loudly to another man outside the cell, grabbing his attention. 

“Hey! Get uh…” he pauses, humming in deliberation and twirling his knife in Jo’s direction, clearly wanting her to finally tell him what her name is. 

“Jo,” she whispers in a tiny, mousy voice. 

“That is a beautiful name,” Negan murmurs lowly, leaning at an angle to observe the shivering girl in the corner before addressing his man again. “Get Jo here a new t-shirt,” he instructs, sending the other man away as he takes several very slow steps towards her. 

Balancing his weight on the bat he braces against the floor, Negan crouches close to Jo, leaning towards her with his large knife. For a moment she feels a flash of panic as Negan moves incredibly close to her with the weapon, then she realizes he’s reaching behind her for the rope knotted around her wrists. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he offers kindly as he slices through her nylon bindings. “Sorry about the rope too. Probably overkill, but you did put up one hell of a fight with my men.” 

Jo can hear the humor and weird attempt at comfort in Negan’s voice, though it doesn’t make her feel any better. Now that her adrenaline has worn off, she realizes how close she just came to being raped. She’d been utterly defenseless in this tiny room and the thought that something like that very nearly occurred terrifies her. That fear causes her to vibrate even harder and she wraps her sore arms around her body in an attempt to comfort herself as she feels a panic attack coming on. Between the fear and the lasting chill in her bones, Jo’s teeth start to chatter. She squeezes her eyes shut to block out her environment and her breathing picks up to a heavy pant, alerting Negan to her near catatonic state. 

“Shit, I won’t hurt you, darlin’,” Negan soothes gently, hesitating for a moment when he tries to reach out and rub her arm in a soothing gesture. When his bare fingers touch her skin, he realizes how cold she is. “Lemme get you a blanket,” he offers, standing up and making his way to the doorway to holler obnoxiously down the hallway, demanding that someone bring him a blanket. 

Negan watches Jo carefully from his post at the doorway; she realizes that somehow his kindness, soft tone, and concern for her are more unnerving than watching him slide a knife straight through a man’s neck. Within minutes, Simon shows up, carrying a thick fleece blanket that he hands off to Negan. Both men approach cautiously, Simon hanging back as Negan unfolds the blanket and wraps it around Jo as best he can with her pressed into the corner of the room. Seeing how frightened the girl is, Negan decides he doesn’t want her to be left in a cold, empty cell. She’s suffered enough already and it’s his responsibility to make sure she’s safe. 

“Can you walk?” he asks. 

Jo considers his question for a moment and though she probably can walk if she tried, she feels too weak to even bother. She shakes her head no, tensing immediately when Negan scoots closer and wedges an arm behind her back and under her knees. He lifts her with ease, adjusting his grip on her blanket-swaddled body before stepping out of the room. 

“Boss, we got a situation. They need you at the front gate,” Dwight calls, running down the hallway towards the trio gathered outside the cell. 

“Fuck. Here Simon, take her,” Negan demands, passing Jo’s tiny form into Simon’s arms. “Set her up in a room and keep an eye on her. I’ll be back.“ 

With that, Negan strides rapidly down the hall, following Dwight to take care of whatever issue has cropped up. Jo relaxes slightly, feeling somewhat more comfortable with Simon. She isn’t exactly familiar with him and she should hate him most of all for bringing her here in the first place, but something about him calms her. Bouncing slightly as the muscle-bound man paces through the halls of the factory, Jo wonders what her time here is going to be like after this incident. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Simon mutters awkwardly as he opens a door at the very end of a hallway, leading to a dark room. He crosses the room and places Jo atop a small bed, before backing away and scratching his mustache, clearly uncomfortable. “You’ll stay here until you can get your strength up. Then I’ll give you the grand tour and we’ll see where you’re gonna fit in.” 

Jo watches as Simon backs away, leaving her alone in the room. She considers his words for a moment, trying to decide how she feels about them. She appreciates these people letting her stay here, especially them even trying to take care of her. But does she really want to stay? Sure it’s safer than being on her own in the woods, but she doesn’t want to have to answer to anyone else. She doesn’t want to follow anyone’s rules and she doesn’t want to worry about what anyone else is doing. In the midst of her musings, Jo’s exhausted body slips into a deep sleep, where she stays for almost the entirety of the next day. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

In the days following Jo’s attack, the people here at the Sanctuary have been surprisingly welcoming. Simon had kept his promise of looking after her and giving her a tour of the factory. She’s seen everything from the kitchen to the commissary, the stock rooms and armories, even the recreational rooms and the dorms where the more important members of the group live – she learns that they call themselves the Saviors. During the end of the tour, Simon points out Negan’s room and she realizes his room is right next door to hers. Besides her own, Negan’s is the only other room in this mostly empty end of the building. She isn’t sure why Simon had chosen to give her this room, but she figures it has something to do with Negan wanting to know where she is at all times and that she’s out of trouble. 

Returning to her own room, she steps inside with Simon, noticing a small basket of items set upon her bed. Inside she finds a plethora of things that would be considered a luxury these days – all matters of soaps and toiletries, deodorant, a razor, and several other small treats. A note inside indicates that the basket is a gift from someone, though no name is attached to it. 

“Probably a gift from the wives,” Simon intones from the doorway. 

“The _wives_?” Jo wonders aloud, turning to face Simon. 

“Yeah. Coupla girls Negan keeps around. They get special privileges and treatment in exchange for…favors,” Simon informs her. 

Jo’s face screws up in disgust at the very idea. Of _course_ Negan has a harem of women to sleep with. The more she learns about the man, the less she likes him. Thankfully, she’s avoided him for the most part so far. Aside from a couple short visits to check up on her, Negan had been kept busy with his work and stayed away from Jo. Though she’s still already seen enough of him to be sick of him. His Georgia twang may have hinted at him being a Southern gentleman, but experience proved he is anything but. The man appeared to be nothing but an overabundance of bad jokes, annoying sarcasm, and crude, brash, and vulgar commentary. Not to mention his erratic behavior and disturbing violence. The closest he’d ever come to manners was when he’d asked one of his men to _please_ go fuck themselves. The less time she spends around him, the less she’d have to worry about telling him off or punching his face in. 

“So anyway…this is home sweet home,” Simon gruffs, intentionally interrupting the thought process his mention of the wives has clearly prompted within Jo’s head. “Negan doesn’t want you working yet, so come see me in a few days and I’ll let you know where you’re supposed to be.” 

“Thanks, Simon,” Jo offers, giving him a quick wave goodbye. For a moment, she considers asking Simon to stay for a while and keep her company. He’s the first person in a long time to treat her as something other than a meal ticket or a piece of meat they want to fuck, and she finds herself warming up to him. She can’t exactly say she likes him or that they’re friends, but she doesn’t hate his company. After being lonely for two long years, she’s enjoying her first taste of bonding with another human being. Fighting against her soft and ridiculous notion of friendship, Jo keeps her mouth shut, letting Simon leave and settling into her roiling thoughts. 

As much as she doesn’t want to work _for_ Negan, she figures she may as well make the most of her time here. She’ll be better off going with the flow and following the rules. She can’t leave just yet and it’ll be nice to have something to distract her while she’s stuck inside the walls of the Sanctuary. She hopes she gets a job that she finds interesting as she’s skilled in a lot of things and works hard and independently. Hell, Negan would be lucky to have Jo working at his side. She’s heard talk of groups of Saviors leaving the compound to go on runs and collect from other communities and she very much wants to be a part of that. With her hopes slightly restored and her expectations barely above none, she settles in for the night.


	6. Proof

Jo spends her days keeping busy and doing her best to adjust to her new life at the Sanctuary. To her chagrin, her job assignment is the furthest thing from what she’d been hoping for. She’d been put to work in the kitchen, working alongside mostly women and a few men who are too stupid to be trusted outside the walls of the compound. For the first few days, Jo didn’t mind her work, but before long it started to rub her the wrong way. She couldn’t really blame Negan for sending her here; he doesn’t know her or what she’s capable of, so he likely picked the first place that had an opening for another worker. Still, it irks her that he hadn’t bothered to really see where she would fit in or even ask her opinion on where she’d like to be forced to slave away.

Chopping aggressively at a fresh cucumber, Jo finds herself boiling with anger at the man in charge. She is sick of everyone here treating her like an invalid, like she’s incapable of looking out for herself or doing _real_ work. Granted her start here hadn’t been great and she needed a few days to recover, but now that she’s back on her feet, she wants to do something productive. It takes everything in her not to throw down her knife and stomp down to Negan’s room, demanding that he give her a more suitable job. Better yet, maybe she should take the damn knife with her to make a more compelling argument. Either way, deep down she knows better; she’s already seen Negan’s short, fiery temper firsthand and knows that complaining about her job or demanding _anything_ from the caustic man is a sure way to land one’s self in hot water. 

From the kitchen, Jo can hear a loud cacophony of voices, letting her know that one of the groups of Saviors have returned from their run. She doesn’t hear any whistling or obnoxious yelling, so she knows it’s safe to assume the group that’s returned isn’t the one Negan was leading today. She’s grateful for that fact as she doesn’t want to be anywhere out in the open when he comes back. Since starting her job in the kitchen, he’s stopped by every day, making sure to flirt and harass her with his sexual innuendos and cringe-worthy come-ons. She’s fed up with his massive ego and ridiculous confidence and she doesn’t think she can handle one more vulgar word from his inexhaustible mouth. Plus, on top of what a pest he is, she’s afraid that one of these days Negan is going to notice how much the unfamiliar territory of his unfounded attention makes her blush. 

A large group of boots march down the hallway outside the kitchen, catching Jo’s attention as they carry their collected loot to the commissary where everything will be accounted for and put out for purchase. Jo does her best to stay far from the commissary. It operates on a point system and since she hasn’t worked anywhere near long enough to afford anything there, it’s not worth looking at all the things she can’t have. Even during the end of the world, you can’t have what you want. 

When Jo’s supervisor dismisses her from her shift, she quickly cleans up her work area before rinsing her hands and returning her apron to the hook on the wall. She says a short farewell to the folks in the kitchen before making her way through the doors. On the way back to her room, she unfortunately has to pass by the commissary. She tries not to look at all the goods the groups have brought in today, but a crate of material left abandoned just outside the door to the room piques her interest. She slows her steps as she passes by, identifying the material inside as a collection of lingerie. She already knows that prior to the underwear being inventoried, the wives will get first pick before the Saviors can get their hands on anything. That’s just how things work in Negan’s little kingdom. 

Wanting to passively stick it to Negan even though he’ll never know about it, Jo decides she’s going to take some underwear. She’s in desperate need of some new ones and she deserves a little treat for herself anyway. Snatching up a pair of sexy red lace panties, she balls them up and hastily shoves them into her bra before anyone can catch her. Alas, Jo is completely unaware that the crate of underwear has already been rifled through by the wives and everything accounted for before being left outside the commissary where she’s just stolen a pair. She’s also unaware of the woman peeking around the corner of the hallway, watching Jo thieve a single garment of crimson lace. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Returning from a particularly busy shift at the kitchen, Jo drags her tired body to her room to take a much needed shower. She shuts the door to her room and locks it. It still surprises her to even see a lock on the door. The idea of it seems odd because – even outside of the cell – she very much still feels like a prisoner here. A lock on a door is an unexpected privilege in a place where no one has any real freedom or privacy. 

Stripping out of her clothes, Jo pads to the bathroom. The private room with an attached bathroom is also a huge luxury Jo never expected. Along with it came a fully-functioning shower complete with beautifully hot water. Jo cherishes her showers as well as the privilege of having soaps and razors to keep up with her hygiene. 

After glorifying in the splendor of a steamy shower, Jo steps out to quickly dry her dripping body with a rough towel. From the counter, she grabs the sparse clothes she’d brought in with her – the over-sized white t-shirt Negan loaned her on the night she was attacked along with her secretly stolen pair of panties. Jo laughs to herself as she pulls the pilfered underwear up and over her thighs, fitting them snugly over her firm ass. She drops the big t-shirt over her head, the hem of it hitting her mid-thigh. 

Passing from the bathroom back into her bedroom, Jo nearly lets out a frightened scream. There on the edge of her mattress sits Negan, perched as if he belongs there. Her locked door seems like much less of a big deal now that she knows people around here have no respect for the concept of privacy. Jo yanks self-consciously at the hem of her t-shirt, the garment feeling far too short under the scrutiny of Negan’s eyes. 

“It seems I’ve got myself a little situation,” he begins, not really specifying his reason for breaking into Jo’s room. “One of my men reported some of the inventory they gathered on the run yesterday has up and gone missing. A pair of panties, to be exact. Says he saw some pretty little thing go scampering by the commissary and that’s when he noticed they were missing,” he informs her, gesturing enthusiastically as he fills Jo in on the aforementioned situation. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now would you?” 

“N-no, I don’t, sorry,” Jo mutters, seeing a wide grin spread across Negan’s face as she realizes this is the first time she’s actually spoken to him – something Negan seems positively tickled by. Uncomfortable under the man’s unrelenting stare, Jo begins shuffling on her feet, her eyes downcast. She and Negan both know her deception is coming across loud and clear in her body language. It’s obvious that he’s already aware of her wrongdoing, otherwise he wouldn’t even be here asking her about it. It’s just like Negan to come here and mess with her like a lion playing with it’s food before he devours it. He’s very much living up to his reputation of being cruel and sadistic. Regardless, Jo still tries to deny the accusation. 

“ _No_?” he drawls with exaggerated shock. “So that pretty little thing with the sticky fingers wasn’t _you_?” 

Jo merely shakes her head, the rising apprehension in her chest rendering her incapable of expelling even the smallest sound. She knows she should meet Negan’s eyes so maybe he won’t think she’s lying, but she’s afraid he’ll see right through her if she does. 

“Hmm. I wanna believe you Jo, I really do. But ya see…I just don’t know you, so how can I trust you?” he wonders. “If the situation was reversed, I’m sure you wouldn’t trust me either. So as much as I want to believe you and I’m sure you _aren’t_ lying, I think I’m just gonna have to make sure.” 

Jo looks up at him then, her eyes squinted with suspicion. How the hell is he gonna make sure? What is he gonna do, dig through her drawers like some creepy pervert? Maybe she’d get away with it then, as he wouldn’t find the underwear in her meager pile of clothing and she’d get off scot-free. Negan’s next words shoot that idea straight out of the sky and cause Jo’s mouth to pop open in shock. 

“Lift up that shirt,” Negan demands from his spot on her bed. 

“ _What_?” she snaps, sure that she’d misheard him. There’s no possible way that his solution to this is to look at her half-naked body. 

“You heard me. Let me see what you’re wearing. Prove to me you didn’t _steal_ from me,” he snarls, his voice taking on a hard edge. 

Jo splutters for a moment, unable to convey her refusal in anything but a hectic shaking of her head. She knows she’ll have to fess up now. No man has ever seen her in any capacity of nakedness and the idea of Negan being the first terrifies her. 

“I swear I was gonna pay for them when I got some points. I just wanted something nice, I’m sorry,” she rambles, effectively admitting her crime to the dangerous man. 

His face grows serious and his eyes harden when he makes his next command. “Take them off,” he states firmly. 

“What? Why?” Jo ponders, still tripping over her words as he’s somehow managed to shock her even further. 

“They don’t belong to you and you’re going to return them. _Now_ ,” he growls sternly. 

“I’ll give them back, I promise. Just um…just let me wash them first,” she offers, the rising pitch at the end of her sentence making the statement come out as more of a question. She’s desperately trying to make excuses to avoid having to slip out of the underwear right in front of Negan. 

“Take them off right now before I fuckin’ come over there and take them off myself,” he snaps, his eyes and voice icing over. 

As uncomfortable as Jo is, she can’t deny that his dominating attitude and somewhat humiliating request are arousing her. The idea of him following through with his last threat is one she doesn’t find entirely disagreeable, but she’s too caught up in her own insecurities to let it actually happen. Through all her fighting and excuses, Jo realizes she hasn’t actually said no to Negan, so maybe she does want this. With shaking hands, she hooks her thumbs around the elastic waistband of her underwear and lowers them down her thighs. She’s especially wary of keeping the edge of her t-shirt over her lower half, careful not to flash any bit of the inexplicably damp folds between her thighs. Slipping the garment over her feet, Jo stands straight with the panties bunched tightly in her fist, waiting for Negan’s reaction. 

“Bring them to me,” Negan calls, holding his hand out with his palm facing up. 

Jo hesitates before taking short steps towards her bed and approaching Negan’s seated form. She stays as far away as she can, stretching her arm to it’s limits in order to drop the panties into his waiting hand. Before Jo can release the lace bundle, Negan lashes out, snatching her wrist and twisting it painfully to pull her face down into his lap. 

“Oh my god, what are you doing?!” Jo yelps in a panic. 

“Punishing you,” Negan offers in a bored tone, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Please don’t,” Jo pleads weakly, squirming her body against Negan’s widespread thighs. 

“Take your punishment like a good girl or it’s only going to get worse,” he explains in a soothing voice. 

Jo still hasn’t said no to him yet, though if she does, he’s going to stop right away. He wants to see how far he can push and how much she can take. It’s a test of her obedience and her willingness to submit. Perhaps not the best method to assess the timid girl, but Negan has never been one for propriety. He still holds Jo’s wrist tightly in one hand and with the other, he rubs along the length of her spine, trying to calm her. She settles down marginally and he takes that as a positive sign. Her breathing is still heavy, but Negan knows that’s due to how turned on she is already. So much so that he can faintly smell her arousal in the air. She clenches her thighs tightly to prevent herself from being exposed to Negan, though it does little to provide her with even the smallest feeling of security or cover. 

“I’m going to spank you ten times,” Negan announces. “Five for stealing from me, five more for lying to me. I think I’m being _very_ lenient with you.” 

Not giving Jo a chance to argue the point, Negan hikes the hem of her shirt up her back and slaps the smooth skin of Jo’s ass. She lets out a small squeak of surprise and he lets her settle down before delivering the next blow. This time Jo stays silent, though he can hear her breathing start to pick up. He repeats the gesture several more times, alternating his hits and not stopping to give her a break until he reaches the tenth slap. 

By the time he’s finished, Jo is a shivering mess; tears streaming down her face and her arousal dampening her thighs. She feels humiliated by the punishment Negan has delivered, but even more so by how much it turned her on. Jo has had no sexual experiences thanks to her strict upbringing and she has no idea how to process what just happened or how she feels about it. 

“Easy, sweetheart, you did so well,” Negan coos, his rough palm massaging soothing circles over her red, burning flesh. He makes sure to keep his touch only on her backside, not giving her any of the stimulation he knows she’s desperate for. This is a punishment after all. “Follow my rules and I won’t have to do that again.” 

Negan lifts Jo in his arms, scooting her off his lap to place her on the bed beside him. She sucks air between her teeth when her sore skin touches the cool sheets of her bed. He observes her tear-streaked cheeks for a moment before standing up, subtly adjusting the growing hardness behind his zipper. Bending at the waist, he picks up the forgotten pair of panties from the floor. He rubs the material between his fingers for a moment, almost as if he’s contemplating something. 

“You can keep the damn panties. Think of it as a welcome aboard present,” he offers. “Besides, they’re too wet to put back in the commissary anyway.” With his final tease, Negan tosses the red lace into Jo’s lap and turns on his heel. Not sparing her a second glance, he vanishes from the room, leaving Jo with her mouth agape, thighs shaking, and pussy throbbing.


	7. The Things I've Seen

You’d think that bad days wouldn’t be a thing at the end of the world considering that everything has _already_ gone to shit, but clearly that isn’t the case. Jo has been at odds with all possible things – herself, every member of the Sanctuary, and frankly the whole goddamn universe – since crawling out of bed this morning. She’d gotten almost no sleep last night thanks to Negan’s impromptu little visit. The incident had left Jo with a mess of emotions and thoughts, all of which had kept her awake for hours, tossing and turning restlessly.

She started off angry, peeved with Negan for treating her the way he had and ashamed of herself for her reaction to his behavior. On top of that, she was pissed that he had the nerve to get her so worked up only to walk out of the room and leave her on edge. That had been the other thing keeping her up. Jo was so aroused following her interaction with Negan that all she could do was twist and squirm beneath her sheets, desperate for the tension wracking her body to abate, looking for any way to suppress the tingling between her thighs. Eventually – after nearly an hour of fighting back her own desire – she’d given in and slid her hand down her taut body to relieve the pressure. Masturbation is nothing new or unfamiliar for Jo, her own fingers had been her only source of release her whole life. Much to her frustration though, she’d spent the night totally unsuccessful in bringing herself to orgasm. 

Sexually frustrated and exhausted, every other thing going wrong for Jo is just fuel on her never-ending flames of rage. She woke up earlier to find that she’d forgotten to do laundry the night before, leaving her to wear dirty clothes with the smells of the kitchen still clinging to the fabric. On her way down to the cafeteria for breakfast, she’d been the victim of a scathing look from her least favorite of Negan’s wives. For the most part, they’d kept to themselves or at least been civil, though Amber seems to have it out for Jo. She could think of nothing she wants more than to kick the skinny, blonde woman’s ass. Besides that, some idiot had spilled a mug of lukewarm coffee all over Jo and with no clean laundry, she’d had to start her shift in the kitchen wearing soggy pants. 

Kneading a large pile of dough that’s meant to be served as bread for dinner, Jo takes all her anger out on the poor yeasty concoction. She pictures both Negan’s and Amber’s face in her mind as she pounds her tiny fists into the soft, sticky dough. Jo pummels it violently, baring her teeth in rage as she continues her assault. By the time she’s exhausted herself, she realizes the dough is totally overworked and there’s no way it’s going to turn into bread now. Huffing in frustration, she picks up the ruined dough and slams it back down, tipping a canister of flour off the counter in the process. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Jo hisses under her breath, looking down at the layer of flour coating the floor as well as the white piles covering the tops of her boots. This day just keeps getting worse and worse for her and she convinces herself that this is going to be the end of her bad luck. There’s no way anything else can happen, and if somehow it does, she’s going to bury her head in one of the many ovens in the industrial kitchen. 

Shaking the flour off her boots, she picks the now empty canister off the floor and tosses it onto the counter. With a grunt of irritation, Jo moves to sweep up the mess before one of the other women working the kitchen steps in to do it for her. After being commanded to take a break from cooking, Jo stomps testily into the walk-in pantry to collect herself and calm down. Sitting on an overturned bucket, she enjoys the solitude of the small room for only a few minutes before she hears the door opening up. 

She glances up and her misery returns full force at the sight of the bat-wielding man darkening the doorway. Jo immediately stands up, ready to get back to work so she can avoid getting in trouble and also so she can get away from Negan. It isn’t uncommon for Negan to pay visits to various work stations to keep everyone in line, but Jo knows she can’t tolerate his presence today, regardless of his purpose. When he shuts the door behind him, Jo has a feeling this isn’t just a boss checking up on his workers. She prays for one of her coworkers to have a sudden need for something within the pantry so they can interrupt and save her from this interaction, but she knows no one is stupid enough to interfere with anything Negan does. 

“You look tired,” Negan observes, an infuriatingly smug smirk painted across his face. 

Jo doesn’t respond which only prompts Negan’s smirk to upgrade to a full blown grin. It’s obvious from his expression that he knows she’s exhausted and is well aware that’s he’s the reason for it. She’d chuck a can of corn at him to wipe that stupid fucking smile off his face if she knew it wasn’t likely she’d lose her life for it. When Negan advances on her in the small space, Jo pushes her shoulders back and tips her chin up defiantly, her challenge clear in her body language. Even with the man so close that she can feel his warm breath on her face, she doesn’t back down. 

“So how many times did you get yourself off last night? Did you cum all over those thieving little fingers?” Negan whispers, tawny eyes boring into Jo’s brown ones. hadn’t gotten off at all yesterday, which is precisely the cause of her foul mood today. 

Acting impulsively, she brings her hand back before smacking it across Negan’s left cheek with a loud crack. His head snaps sharply to the side and Jo quickly takes a step back, instantly knowing that her outburst is going to cost her. Negan keeps his head turned away for a moment longer before shaking it side to side to gather himself. With his tongue coasting along his lower lip, he slowly returns his gaze to Jo’s blank face. Crowding her personal space, he leans threateningly over her as he speaks in an eerily quiet voice. 

“I would _not_ do that again if I were you,” he warns. Jo inhales sharply when Negan grabs her arm and pushes her roughly, rattling the shelves behind her as her body collides with them. “Don’t forget who you are and who’s in charge here.“ 

Jo snatches her arm out of Negan’s grip, insulted by his demeaning words reminding her that he believes she’s below him in _every_ sense of the word. His dark gaze dares her to say or do something else, but it doesn’t scare her in the least; she merely stares coldly back at him until he takes a step away from her. Negan gives her a once-over from head to toe, his expression full of annoyance as he turns away to leave the pantry. 

"Get the fuck back to work,” he grumbles snottily as he whips the door open and makes a dramatic exit. 

Blowing out an extensive huff, Jo rubs her still tingling palm over her face. She takes a few seconds to reign in what little composure she can manage before sneaking back out to the kitchen. She scans the busy room, making sure that Negan is long gone before she returns to her work. Tasking herself with making another batch of dough, Jo focuses on her work, willing the clock to tick faster so she can return to the solitude of her own room. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

“Where we goin’?” Jo asks curiously from her spot between Simon and some other Savior seated in the front of a cargo truck. 

“Gotta introduce our new friends to the rules of their new life,” Simon gruffs. 

Jo can tell from the tone of his words that Simon isn’t as excited about this as he has been for past introductions. That fact is enough to let her know exactly which group they’re going to be visiting. Rumors had been floating around the Sanctuary about a community that had infiltrated one of the Savior outposts and killed everyone inside while they slept. Jo can’t imagine this meeting being anything but a bloody massacre of each and every one of the people they’ve caught. Negan doesn’t seem the type to let anyone get away with that kind of thing. 

Bouncing along the rough roads, Jo keeps quiet for the remainder of the trip. She’s seen plenty of blood, guts, and violence in this life, but she isn’t sure she’s fully prepared for whatever Negan has in store. When the truck stops, she waits for her two companions to exit before hopping out onto the gravel outside. The night air is slightly chilly and she finds herself wishing she had a jacket to protect against the goosebumps blanketing her arms. 

Jo circles the truck, following behind Simon as she takes in the sight before her. In the center of the opening sits a group of about a half a dozen people, all kneeling on the ground. Around them is half of the Savior community, each member armed with some sort of weapon. Everyone but Jo, who hadn’t been provided any kind of tool to defend or harm. Typical. 

The small group of people seems to be scared shitless, every one of them looking at their surroundings and knowing just how much trouble they’re in. Jo observes each individual perched on the ground as Simon addresses them all, though she isn’t paying attention to his words. She barely considers herself a member of the Saviors since she’d been tossed among them against her will, but she feels affronted by the actions of these people. It wasn’t right for them to murder innocent people for no apparent reason, and she’s looking forward to seeing them get what they deserve. 

“Let’s meet the man,” Simon declares, rapping his knuckles against the door of an RV parked at the front of the line of Savior vehicles. 

Simon returns to Jo’s side as the door of the RV swings open and Negan struts out, leather jacket wrapped around his muscular torso and his trusty bat perched over his shoulder. 

“We pissin’ our pants yet?” he asks rhetorically. “Boy, do I have a feelin’ we’re gettin’ close. Gonna be pee-pee pants city here _real_ soon.” 

After addressing the group, Negan turns his attention to Jo. He regards her with a serious look for a long moment as he approaches her. 

“You’re gonna wanna pay _close_ attention to this, darlin’,” he assures her with a chilling grin. “Think of it as a little late orientation. Reminder of your place here.” 

With that, Negan turns back to the group awaiting their punishment, leaving Jo to stew over his words. Her face is twisted into a disgusted scowl as Negan launches into a monologue of threats and warnings she can’t be bothered listening to. How many times is he going to remind her that she has no freedom or power under his leadership? She got the fucking point and doesn’t need a constant refresher of his ridiculous need to control everything. She already hates having to virtually submit to the man, and his relentless nagging is truly starting to grate on her nerves. 

“ _This_ is Lucille. And she. Is. _Awesome_ ,” Negan announces, showing off his precious bat with a sweeping motion. 

Tuning back in to Negan’s smoky voice, she looks up just as he raises his deadly bat to smash it against the head of a large man with a ginger mustache. Jo doesn’t even flinch as Negan taunts the man before repeatedly swinging his bat down until all that’s left is a pile of bloody viscera. 

“Oh my _goodness_ ,” Negan exclaims, emphasizing every word by tilting his body backwards and swaying smoothly with each syllable. 

Something about his animated display adds to the sinister effect of his violence and Jo finds it oddly charming. The man is an expert at translating his rage and vengeance into a charismatic act that draws you in. She doesn’t want to admit it, but in some way she’s entertained by Negan’s behavior. She feels no sympathy for the group of murderers watching their friend as he’s beat to a pulp; you reap what you sow. 

Jo is drawn from her thoughts when Negan begins battering a second person at the far end of the lineup. She looks on in interest as the man’s eye dangles grossly from his skull, something Negan promptly points out to everyone within earshot. Every person on their knees is either crying or hunched over in horror and it fills Jo with a sense of victory. She watches in awe, glad for Negan to get some recompense for his slaughtered soldiers. 

With one last diatribe ensuring that these people know who they answer to from here on out, Negan begins to wrap up his assertion of dominance. It’s clear that he has total power over anyone he comes in contact with and this instance is certainly no exception. The downsized group listens in shock as Negan lays out his rules, demanding from them what he’s demanded from every other community under his jurisdiction. One more group added to the long list of ones already under the Saviors’ rule just means even more progress in their rise to total power and for once, Jo is glad she’s on their good side. 

Negan vacates the clearing, swaggering his way back to the RV. He tosses a cocky look in Jo’s direction, everything in his eyes screaming how much he wants her to understand the point he continues to drive home with her. His expression conveys how serious he is about that particular point and it raises Jo’s hackles. Just like that, one simple look destroys the tiny semblance of respect Jo had scrounged up for the man in the last five minutes. 

Climbing back into the truck beside Simon, Jo settles in for the drive back to the compound. She refuses to think of it as home, as it’s nothing more than a prison for her. She’ll go back and perform her duties, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. No one there knows what she’s capable of and at some point she’s going to use their underestimations to her advantage. She knows the first chance she gets, she’s going to get out of that place. After tonight’s little show and tell, she isn’t sure how she’s going to get away from Negan, but she knows she will.


	8. You Waste Your Time

Life at the Sanctuary is incredibly monotonous, much to Jo’s surprise. Even with everyone bustling around and with all the jobs to be done, everyone has a repetitive routine every single day; nothing much interesting ever happens around the place. Each person tends to their daily responsibilities, doing what’s required of them and staying out of trouble. Weekly meetings are held in the main room of the factory where Negan keeps the Saviors up to date on the happenings and lets them know of any changes going on. After weeks of doing the same thing over and over, Jo is quickly growing bored of her life here and wants something new.

Today she’d gotten her wish, but it isn’t exactly the kind of novelty she had in mind. Gathered around the furnace in the basement of the factory, the buzz of conversation fills the large room. No one is sure why they’ve been gathered here, but Jo has a bad feeling about it. In front of the furnace sits an unconscious man tied to a chair. He looks beaten and bloody and Jo wonders what he’s done to deserve that. At the front of the crowd stands Negan’s wives; a redhead and a brunette holding Amber’s sobbing body in a comforting embrace. Putting the pieces together, Jo assumes Amber has something to do with what’s about to go down. 

Up on the second story platform of the room, a metallic clang bounces off the concrete walls. The conversations in the room cease immediately as the banging continues. Negan strolls into sight, the tapping of his bat against the metal railing being the source of the racket echoing through the room. At the appearance of their fearless leader, every Savior drops down to one knee in a show of respect. 

Jo rolls her eyes, but joins in regardless. The gesture itself feels incredibly belittling in Jo’s eyes, but in the past weeks she’s come to understand it. She may not particularly like him, but she can’t deny that Negan has an ominous presence that absolutely _demands_ respect. The kind of respect fueled entirely by fear. The kind of respect that stems from not wanting to do or say the wrong thing and end up dead. The kind of respect that if Negan decided to smash your skull in with his ridiculous bat, you’d feel obligated to apologize for bleeding on the damn thing. 

Negan makes his way smoothly down the steel stairs, joining the rest of the Saviors on the ground floor. Scanning his eyes over the crowd, he pauses for a long moment on Amber, quirking an eyebrow at her hysterical antics before moving on. Whatever her issue is, he clearly isn’t very concerned with it. 

He hands off his bat to Simon before turning to address his awaiting audience. “You know the deal…what’s about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don’t wanna do it,” he admits. “I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I _can’t_. Why?” 

“Rules keep us alive,” the room responds in unison. 

“That. Is. _Right_ ,” Negan emphasizes. “We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilization back to this world. We are the Saviors.” He pauses momentarily, presumably for dramatic effect. “But we can’t do that without rules. Rules are what make it _all_ work. I know it’s not easy, but there’s always work. There is always a cost. Here…if you try to skirt it, if your try to cut that corner, then it is the iron for you!” 

By the end of his statement, Negan is yelling so passionately that the veins in his neck stick out. Jo never ceases to be impressed with how fierce and intense Negan is when it comes to keeping his men in line and protecting the well-being of his people. As much as he may seem evil and cruel, everything he does is for the good of his own community. Still, Jo wonders what the man at the center of the room has to do with any of this. Negan waves a hand then, instructing everyone to rise to their feet again. 

“D…” Negan utters, addressing Dwight who Jo can now see standing at the open mouth of the blazing furnace. 

Negan begins to pull a thick leather glove over his thin wrist while Dwight slides a hooked metal pole inside the furnace, pulling it back out with a heavy iron dangling off the end. Jo can see where this is headed and she’s unsure if she’ll be able to watch. Negan sure has a knack for proving his points, but this one certainly takes the cake. 

Reaching for the glowing orange iron Dwight offers in his direction, Negan carries the weighty object over to the seated man. 

“Mark,” Negan addresses the man Jo hadn’t initially recognized, “sorry, but it is what it is.” 

At the utterance of the man’s name, Jo realizes the man is Amber’s husband. Or rather, her ex-husband. She’d married Negan shortly after her arrival at the Sanctuary, effectively divorcing her from the young man currently shivering in a puddle of his own sweat. 

Before Jo can ponder what Mark could possibly have done to prompt this sort of punishment, Negan raises the hot iron to his cheek, pressing it firmly against the skin. The hissing sound of the steaming iron can barely be heard over the sound of Mark’s horrific screaming. He carries on loudly for several seconds before falling unconscious as Negan peels the iron away from his melted face, a sticky trail of flesh dangling from the heated surface. Negan laughs throatily, observing the red and blistered skin of Mark’s ruined face. 

“Ah, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Negan asks to no one in particular, clearly amused by his own actions. “Jesus, he pissed himself,” he observes, handing the used iron back to Dwight. 

Everyone in the room shifts uncomfortably, unsure how to react now that the worst part is over. Negan commands one of his men to clean up before telling Dr. Carson to take care of Mark. Negan twirls slowly, observing the various expressions on the faces around the room. 

“It’s settled, we’re square. Everything is cool,” Negan announces, his eyes flitting to Amber for a split second. “Let Mark’s face be a daily reminder to him _and_ to everyone else that the rules matter. I hope that we all learned something today, because I don’t _ever_ wanna have to do that again.” 

Negan dismisses everyone then, though Jo remains rooted to the spot as the Saviors begin to clear out. She scours the room, trying to locate Simon so she can ask him what the hell this was all about. Spotting him at the other end of the room, she starts to make her way in his direction. As she crosses the center of the room past Negan, he latches a strong hand around her elbow. Pulling her close, he bends at the waist to speak directly into her ear. 

“Some crazy shit, huh? You probably think I’m a lunatic,” he whispers in a raspy voice. 

Jo leans away from Negan, putting enough space between them to glance up at his face. He smirks down at her, clearly expecting her to be quaking in her boots or begging to be let go, but he’s going to be disappointed. She isn’t afraid of him. Not one bit. If the shit she’s seen him do already didn’t terrify her, this certainly won’t either. Negan may control her to some extent and hold a decent amount of power over her, but he won’t scare her. 

Seeing her lack of a reaction, Negan’s smile falter and he releases Jo, letting her go about her business. She stares at him for a second longer before continuing her path towards Simon. Meeting up with him in the hallway, they walk side by side as he fills her in on the purpose behind Negan’s show. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Struggling around the laundry basket in her arms, Jo finally manages to shut her bedroom door behind her. She hitches the heavy basket higher in her arms as she sneaks down the hallway past Negan’s room. The building is mostly deserted considering the late hour. Jo had learned early on that if you wanted to get your laundry done in a timely manner, it was best to do it yourself. Since the laundry room is teeming with workers throughout the day, the only way she can get it done on her own is after hours. 

Jo pads lightly through the maze of halls until she reaches her destination. She smiles to herself when she sees the light already on inside, alerting her to the presence of the person she most looks forward to seeing. Simon had been the one to let Jo in on the tip about the ideal time to do her laundry since he also does his own. One night each week they meet up here to wash their clothes together. Some nights they just hang out and talk, other nights they set up a game of poker on the dusty floors, playing over-competitive rounds of cards to pass the time. 

“Hey, Si,” Jo greets, dropping her laundry basket with a dull thunk. 

“Salutations,” Simon offers humorously. “Took you long enough.” 

“Got stuck late in the kitchen,” Jo defends as she dumps all of her clothes into the washer and starts the machine. “I was just giving you time to stack the deck in your favor.” 

Simon pauses his shuffling of the cards in his hands to put on an offended face. “Are you accusing little ol’ me of _cheating_?" 

"If this card game were a marriage, you’d be Negan,” Jo jokes, referencing the man’s polygamous habits with a sly smile. 

Simon guffaws loudly at Jo’s sleight towards Negan before shushing her sharp tongue and dealing the cards. They play several rounds, most games ending in Simon’s favor, which he makes sure to rub in Jo’s face. Partway through their shenanigans they stop to toss their soaked laundry into their respective dryers before returning to their game. Before long, a loud buzzing fills the room, indicating that Jo’s laundry is finished. She’d love to stay and spend time with Simon, but she has work in the morning and it’s already very late. 

“Ugh, guess I gotta get that,” Jo groans, leaning against the dryer behind her. She slaps her cards down on the ground, leaving Simon to gather them up as she pulls her warm clothes from the dryer. She’s already dreading having to haul her entire wardrobe back to her room to fold it, but the quicker she gets it done, the quicker she can curl up in bed and go to sleep. 

“I’ll walk you back,” Simon volunteers since he’s still waiting on his laundry. 

Lifting the basket back into her arms, Jo scowls menacingly at Simon when he tries to take it from her. She hates anyone treating her like she can’t do things on her own, even if they’re just trying to be generous and lend a helping hand. Throwing his hands up in defense, Simon sweeps an arm in front of him, inviting Jo to walk alongside him down the darkened hallway. They carry on with idle chit-chit for the duration of the trek back to Jo’s room, falling silent when they reach her hallway and pass by Negan’s door. Jo has no idea if he’s in there, but she figures it’s best not to make any noise that may entice him to come outside. 

Jo reaches for the doorknob, struggling slightly with her hands full. An unintentionally loud giggle escapes her as she finally gives in and steps aside to let Simon help her with opening the door. She tosses a sheepish thanks in his direction before stepping through the doorway, leaving him outside the room. 

“Same time next week?” she asks, turning towards him. 

“Be there or be square,” he drawls. With an exaggerated salute, Simon turns on his heel with a small squeak from his boot and makes his exit. 

Jo moves towards her bed, forgetting her open door as she begins to remove each article of clothing from the filled basket to fold them. Distracted by her task, Jo doesn’t hear the door down the hall click open, nor does she see Negan bending over to snatch up the pair of panties she’d dropped on her way down to the laundry room earlier. He picks up the scarlet lace, smiling hugely to himself as he recognizes the underwear as the ones she’d stolen from him at the beginning of her stay in his compound. 

Negan strides stealthily, careful not to alert the girl to his presence. He props himself in her doorway, observing her graceful and quick movements as she folds and puts away her freshly laundered clothing. Finally growing bored, he begins to twirl the dainty bit of lace around his finger as he clears his throat loudly. Jo nearly jumps clear off the floor with a gasp as she whirls around to see Negan draped against the doorjamb. 

“Lose somethin’?” he implores devilishly, dangling the scrap of material from the very tip of his finger. 

Jo’s eyes fall on the familiar piece of fabric and she vows to throw the damn things out the second Negan hands them back; they seem to be bringing her nothing but trouble, namely Negan. Swallowing thickly, Jo nods her head slightly, indicating that the underwear are in fact hers. 

Negan straightens up, striding slowly across the room towards Jo. With only her bed between them, he observes her face intently, closely watching her reaction to what he’s about to do. Raising the red lace to his face, he inhales deeply before letting out a raspy groan. 

“Mmm. Maybe I should just keep them, for…inspiration,” he prompts, reaching his free hand down to paw at himself through his gray pants. 

Jo refuses to give Negan what he wants and drop her eyes to his crotch. Instead, she keeps her eyes on his, hoping that he can’t see how aroused she is at his lewd behavior. She has to hand it to him, Negan is nothing if not determined when he wants something. Not to mention fucking bold. She’d never met anyone quite as forward as him, though that still isn’t going to change her mind. She won’t give in to his advances. She refuses to be another notch in his very full bedpost. She wonders how much longer he’s going to try flirting and seduction before he realizes his antics are useless. 

Satisfied with himself, Negan decides to surrender the panties back to Jo. She sticks her hand out, waiting for him to drop them into her palm. With a slow smile spreading across his face, he surprises her by actually handing them over. Jo gives a microscopic smile of thanks before Negan backs away. 

“Careful where you’re droppin’ your panties, sweetheart. Never know who might get into them,” he tosses over his shoulder. 

Jo doesn’t miss the double entendre in his words. The moment Negan returns to his own room, she streaks across her room and shuts her door as quickly and quietly as possible. The door clicks shut and Jo engages the lock, though she knows from experience it won’t keep Negan out. For a moment she considers blockading the door with various pieces of furniture, but ultimately decides it isn’t worth the effort before tossing the underwear in the corner and dragging her tired body into her bed.


	9. Catching Fire

Munching on the sweet, juicy flesh of a ripe apple, Jo leans her weary body against the cool stainless steel of the industrial fridge. After spending hours cleaning nearly every surface of the kitchen and _still_ having a lot of work ahead of her, she very much needs a break. A large group of Saviors are out on a run with Negan that will keep them away for at least a few days and for whatever reason, the kitchen crew had decided to take advantage of their lack of supervision and left their work space in complete disarray. Not one to shirk her duties and unable to work in such disorder, Jo has stayed long past the end of her shift to pick up after her lazy coworkers. In the event that they get in trouble for not following Negan’s strict rules, she’s at least covered her own ass. The rules are what keeps them alive, right?

Jo glances around the dark room, calculating how much longer she’s going to be at work here. She’d turned the lights off to prevent the stuffy room from getting any hotter with the heat emanating off the fluorescent lamps lining the ceiling, but also so she wouldn’t alert anyone to her presence in the room as she wanted to be left alone. Sighing around a mouthful of apple, she finds herself annoyed with her fellow Saviors. Negan could be a nuisance, what with him being up everyone’s asses all the time, but he’s done quite well managing an entire community of people and she can’t wrap her head around their decision to disobey a few simple rules. It had taken some time, but Jo realized that his way is the only way and she’d finally come around to falling into line. For now, anyway. 

“You stealing food from me now, too?” a low voice growls from the shadows at the other side of the room. 

Jo nearly leaps out of her own skin, inhaling a wad of chewed up apple and proceeding to choke on it. She coughs several times as she watches Negan step into the ray of moonlight streaming in from the small window, blanketing him in a faint bluish light. With his hands swinging freely at his sides, Jo is relieved to see him without his deadly bat. When she manages to catch her breath, she stumbles over her words, trying to explain herself to Negan as she sweeps her thumb over the tears leaking from her eyes. 

“Relax, I don’t really give a shit,” he murmurs, surprising Jo with his bland tone and quick dismissal of a perfect opportunity to fuck with her a little. “The hell are you doing in here this late anyway?” 

“Cleaning up,” she offers simply, not quite annoyed enough with her coworkers to throw them under the bus. “You’re back early,” she counters, mentally smacking herself for admitting that she even cares or pays attention to where Negan is at any time. 

“Yeah, well…wasn’t much left of that community when we got through with them, so we had no reason to stick around,” he offers, his tone significantly more subdued than usual. Jo tilts her head in question, prompting Negan to explain further. “They tried to attack us so we had to take them all out.“ 

Jo gasps softly at the news, a feeling of shock and dread washing over her. Not that she cares about Negan at all, but the idea of him being killed and leaving the community to fend for themselves worries her just a bit. 

“Are we whole?” she wonders, concerned about the group of Saviors that had been out on the run. She furrows her brow in disappointment and fury when Negan shakes his head. 

“Lost a few guys,” he mumbles. 

Jo can hear the strain and defeat in his words. She knows how seriously Negan takes his job and how hard he takes any kind of failure, blaming himself for any harm that befalls the men in his charge. She notices the exhaustion and despondency written all over his face as he slides closer to her. Negan’s abdomen brushes up against the hand still holding Jo’s forgotten apple as he presses close to her, trapping her body between him and the massive refrigerator. She can smell the salty sweat on his skin, along with undertones of whatever soap he uses and something distinctly masculine. Jo starts to panic when he places his hands along her slender hips, grasping the hem of her t-shirt in his fists as he brings their hips together. 

“Negan,” she whispers, a soft warning to get his attention. Jo knows Negan would die before he’d ever admit to having feelings, but it’s obvious that he’s seeking a way to channel those supposedly nonexistent emotions. She knows he’s aiming to utilize her as a distraction or at the very least, a means of release, but she won’t allow herself to be used in that way. 

Jo stares absently at the firm planes of Negan’s chest, not meeting his eyes, though she can feel his gaze burning into her. When he shifts his hands under her shirt and starts to slide them higher up her waist, the tickling sensation causes her to gasp and drop her half-eaten apple onto the ground. The wet thump is all it takes to bring her to her senses as she raises her hands to press gently against Negan’s stomach and force him away from her. 

“Don’t,” she pleads softly. Both her refusal to be manipulated and her general inexperience have her putting a speedy halt to Negan’s obvious advances, much to his displeasure. 

“Why?” he rasps, not releasing her from his hold, his rough palms still burning against the smooth flesh of her abdomen. 

“We can’t,” she states, her voice more firm as she denies him what he wants. 

With Jo squirming nervously within his hands, Negan tries to distract her from her hesitation, thinking that her nerves are the only doubt she’s having. “Sure we can,” he assures her slyly as he bends down to press his lips to the side of her neck. “We can do whatever we want, sweetheart.” 

Getting caught up in Negan’s sudden assault on her senses, Jo finds herself powerless to even move. She can’t lie, the feeling of his soft lips caressing her skin and his beard scraping roughly against her is more than pleasant. Her head tilts to the side as he nips and sucks gently towards the front of her throat. When Negan slips one hand out from under her shirt and cups her breast, it rips her out of her trance. 

“Negan, no. Stop,” she asserts, the volume of her voice raising several decibels. This time, she shoves him roughly, causing him to take several steps back, finally breaking the contact between them. “If you’re looking to get laid, go see one of your _wives_.” 

Negan’s golden eyes immediately shift from fire to ice at hearing Jo’s rejection. Leaving him to contemplate her viciously spat words, Jo slips past him and marches confidently out of the kitchen. The moment she enters the hall, she starts to jog. Negan has never taken kindly to not getting his way and she isn’t going to wait for her words to sink in and for him to lash out at her. The quicker Jo gets out of his sight, the better. 

She breathes out a huge sigh of relief the moment she closes herself up behind her bedroom door. Looking down, she realizes her hands are trembling. That seems to be a common occurrence following any interaction with the enigmatic man. Sometimes Jo would shake out of anger, sometimes out of nerves. A majority of her experiences with Negan have turned sexual, leaving her nervous and frightened by his relentless advances. Not to mention turned on. She’d never had a man chase her so doggedly and she’s not sure she wants it to continue; there’s only one direction Negan’s determined actions can head, and she doesn’t know if she’s ready for that. 

Still, Jo now has to deal with the aftermath of Negan’s touch. Once again, he’s left her throbbing, wet, and in need. It’s not as if it isn’t intentional, Jo is well aware that he’s just trying to wear her down. Stripping down to her underwear, Jo hops into bed and settles in beneath the cool sheets. She wets two fingertips between her lips before slipping her hand under the waistband of her panties and setting to work, all the while pretending it isn’t Negan’s fingers she’s picturing between her thighs. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Today is going to be the day Jo finally grows the balls to face Negan. Every brief meeting they’ve had thus far has been initiated by him, but this time it’s going to be her that comes to him. She wants to make sure he doesn’t think she’s afraid of him in any capacity, but she also has a favor to ask. Perhaps one too big for him to even consider, though she’s going to try nonetheless. 

Pacing back and forth along the length of her room, Jo chews her lower lip between her teeth. She’s been doing this for nearly 10 minutes, trying to overcome her anxiety and muss up the courage to travel the few feet to the door just down the hall. She isn’t sure how to ask for what she wants other than to bite the bullet and just ask, but she’s worried that Negan will deny her. Her self doubt is keeping her prisoner in her own room, refusing to let her walk out that door and talk to her leader. Besides, she knows how much he values his privacy and far be it for her to disturb the moody man. 

“Oh fuck it,” she mumbles to herself as she stomps to the door, whipping it open and promptly slamming it shut. It can’t hurt to try and there’s no time like the present. 

Jo plants her feet right in front of the closed red door down the hall, taking one deep breath before raising her hand and banging her knuckles loudly against the cold steel. She waits several seconds, hoping for some sort of response. Before long, she hears a shuffling within the room and Negan’s deep, muffled voice calls out, inviting her in. 

As Jo twists the knob in her clammy hand and pushes the door open, she’s met with a sight that causes her eyes to roll to the back of her skull. Perched on Negan’s knee sits Amber with her stringy blonde hair and loathsome, bitchy face. Jo can’t help but think how much the picture in front of her reminds her of a child sitting on the lap of a creepy mall Santa. She scoffs to herself at the mental image, thinking that if that were the case, Amber should be asking for a better attitude and some fucking dignity for Christmas. Jo barely contains her snort of laughter as she watches Negan peek around Amber’s giant head to see who has bothered him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, prompting Jo to take a step further into the room as she speaks to him. 

“I wanted to discuss something with you,” she states assertively, not letting an inkling of her nervousness seep into her words. 

Hearing Jo’s vague explanation for her visit, Negan speaks lowly to Amber, tapping her ass lightly as he pushes her off his lap. Back on her feet, she pivots at the waist, sticking her flat ass out as she bends over to make an obnoxious show of kissing Negan on the lips while pawing all over his chest. Straightening up, Amber twists on her stripper heels before clomping like an emaciated Clydesdale past Jo. On her way out, she makes sure to give Jo a blatant once over as she regards her with a nasty scowl. Jo merely smiles sweetly in response. 

“Amber doesn’t seem to like you very much,” Negan observes from his relaxed position on the couch across the room. 

“Not my problem,” Jo counters calmly, not letting Negan get a rise out of her with his obvious taunting. She scrapes her boot across the floor, looking down as she listens to Negan’s words with bored disinterest. 

“She’s probably jealous of the way I look at you…like I wanna eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” he admits, his voice dark and throaty. 

Jo cuts her eyes to Negan then, doing her best not to glare at him. “Also not my problem,” she intones. 

Negan chuckles softly at Jo’s clear dismissal of him, almost impressed with her ability to continue resisting him and shutting him down. Sitting up with his elbows braced on his knees, he gestures Jo over, directing her to sit on the couch facing him on the other side of the small coffee table. 

“Alright, what’s up?” Negan wonders, inviting Jo to speak her mind. 

“I wanted to talk to you about my job assignment,” she states, clinging to the confidence she had when she first walked into his room. Negan nods, letting her know to continue. 

“I’m wasting my time and my skills in the kitchen. I’d like to be somewhere I’m more useful…to you,” she adds, cringing slightly but knowing that an appeal to Negan’s egotistical side is only going to work in her favor. 

“What kind of _skills_ , exactly? Maybe you’d be more useful to me as one of my wives,” he gibes. 

Jo glares at Negan, her angry eyes cutting into him. If only she could actually cut him. Just when she thought she was getting somewhere and maybe someone would finally take her seriously, Negan makes a joke out of her request, as usual turning it into something sexual. Seeing Jo’s pissed off expression, Negan relents at least a little; he appreciates her coming to him and wanting to do something with her time here. 

“What kind of job were you thinking?” he implores, reigning in his vulgarity and humor momentarily. 

“I can go on runs,” Jo responds self-assuredly. 

“That’s a dangerous job, Jo,” Negan warns her, his tone almost angry. 

Jo crosses her arms defensively but leans back in a casual pose; she’d already prepared for this argument. “Every job is dangerous, Negan. I’m more than capable of performing. I managed to take care of myself on my own for the last two years, I think I can handle gathering supplies with a group of people, don’t you?” she counters. 

Negan regards Jo for a long moment, leveling his gaze on her with what she hopes is a hint of respect or even pride. He nods his head slowly before rising from the couch and walking to the desk in the corner of the room. Picking up a piece of paper, he approaches Jo, holding the sheet out to her. 

“Here’s a list of all the groups and their schedules for the week,” he informs her, handing over the handwritten list. “Members of each group, where they’re going and when. Everything you need to know.” 

Jo takes the paper in her fingers, glancing over all the details as Negan explains to her what is required of the Saviors participating on the run. Most of his words go in one ear and out the other as she’s too busy being stunned that Negan had actually agreed to her demand and is going to let her go on runs. 

“You ever deal with those dead fuckers? You know how to handle ‘em?” he queries as he towers above Jo. 

“A few, here and there,” she responds. 

“You’re gonna need to kill more than a few. Gonna have to give you a little training, I guess,” he smirks. “Meet me at the gates after breakfast tomorrow and we’ll see if we can’t get you kickin’ some ass.” 

Jo nods enthusiastically at that, instantly agreeing to his request. She thanks Negan for his cooperation, hopping to her feet before she acts like an hyperactive schoolgirl and embarrasses herself. She heads for the door when Negan’s rough voice halts her. 

“And Jo…don’t be late,” he demands lowly. 

“Yes, sir,” she purrs, tossing out a little taunt of her own. She sees Negan’s eyes darken and slips hastily out of the room before he can react or respond. Bouncing down the hallway back to her room, she grabs a book off her small shelf, hoping it will distract and relax her as she’s far too excited to go to sleep now.


	10. Providence

Even with the early hour, the heat and humidity of the day is near unbearable. Regardless, Jo is full of energy and twitchy with excitement for the day she has ahead. She doesn’t know exactly what kind of training Negan has planned for her, but she knows anything has to be more stimulating for her than slaving away in a hot kitchen dicing up vegetables all day. Jo’s boots crunch noisily across the gravel as she traipses jauntily to the front gates where she can see Negan waiting for her already, his bat swinging restlessly at his side.

“You’re late,” Negan pipes up the moment she’s within earshot, causing Jo to roll her eyes. 

“You never specified a time. You said after breakfast and it _is_ in fact after breakfast, thank you very much,” she retorts with pep, refusing to let his moodiness ruin her joy. 

“Five seconds in and she’s already being a fuckin’ wise ass,” Negan mumbles to himself, signaling to his men to open the gate. 

The chain-link fence rattles loudly as it opens, leaving a gaping space for Negan, Jo, and two Saviors to pass through and step outside the safety of the compound. The group of four marches in silence, traveling down the dirt road a ways, passing about half a mile of forest before reaching a small clearing. Within the clearing, Jo spots a small gathering of slow-moving walkers, wandering obliviously through the low grass. 

“You need a weapon,” Negan states, observing Jo’s empty hands with contemplation. 

“How about I use Lucille?” she offers snidely, knowing that’s an absolute no-no in Negan’s book. Regardless, she can’t help poking fun at him for not considering her need for a weapon _before_ they left the Sanctuary. 

“Over my dead body,” he snarls defensively. 

“Oh, I’m sure that can be arranged,” Jo offers sweetly. The angry look that clouds Negan’s face as he paces towards her almost makes her regret her words. Almost. 

“You wanna keep running your little mouth and I will drag your ass right back inside those gates and give you a job that’s gonna make you wish you were dead,” he whispers in her face, his nearly imperceptible voice deadly and dangerous. 

Jo scoffs and tosses her hands up in surrender, unimpressed with Negan’s little display. She understands now why Negan teases her so much; it’s entertaining to get a rise out of him, though she knows not to push too far. Falling silent, Jo waits patiently for Negan to provide her with a weapon. He asks the other two Saviors for theirs, but upon realizing they are both carrying pistols, he decides against that option. 

“Here, just use this,” he snaps impatiently as he whips the large hunting knife out of the sheath dangling from his hip. Jo takes the blade from him, making sure not to let her fingers brush his. “Let’s see how you handle yourself.” 

Testing the weight of the impressive knife, Jo adjusts her grip so it sits comfortably in her small hand. With Negan’s instruction and the two Saviors following close behind just in case, Jo makes her way into the small clearing. As she swishes through the blades of grass, the group of walkers are alerted to her presence and rotate around to limp mindlessly towards her. Thankfully, they’re spread out just enough that she needn’t worry about being overrun by them. 

Striding quickly, Jo approaches the closest walker. She raises her arm, driving the tip of Negan’s blade straight through the forehead of what was once a man. The wet squish of flesh is satisfying; the rancid rotten stench, however, is not. Warm liquid races along the blade and handle of the knife, dripping all over Jo’s forearm and slicking her palm. 

Pushing the walker’s limp body to the side, Jo goes after the next one. She repeats her previous actions, cracking open the young woman’s skull with swift accuracy. More fluids coat her hand, though she simply tightens her fingers and ignores how slippery her grip is becoming. When the next walker waddles up, Jo immediately sees that her ignorance is a mistake. 

She plunges the knife into the corpse’s skull, but the force of the motion causes her hand to slip right off the slick handle of the knife. With her only means of defense now stuck in the rotting cranium in front of her, Jo starts to panic. Standing on her toes, she reaches for the protruding weapon just as the gurgling monster lunges at her and knocks her off her feet. 

Putrescent globs of drool and bits of liquefied flesh drip onto Jo’s sweaty face as she fights off the weight crushing her. She hears the Saviors behind her closing in and knows she has to stop them. Negan needs to know she’s a capable soldier and having someone else save her ass on day one certainly isn’t an effective way to do that. 

“Fuck off,” she barks as she sees the men in her periphery, aiming their guns at the body on top of hers. 

Finally able to wrap her fingers around the soaked handle of the knife, Jo holds tightly as she braces her knees against the chest of the creature and pushes with all her strength. As the walker lifts off her and tumbles sideways, her knife dislodges with a disgusting, sucking squelch. Jo rolls over, instantly jabbing the knife into the back of the walker’s skull and rendering it immobile once and for all. Dripping with sweat and guts, Jo looks up at Negan as she pants lightly. She’s glad to see that he has a noticeable smirk lifting the corners of his pink lips. He strolls in front of her, offering a hand to help her to her feet. 

“Alright, little shitkicker…not bad,” he praises. 

Jo can’t help the warmth that explodes in her chest upon hearing the pride in Negan’s words. She offers only a tiny nod in response to the compliments from the two impressed Saviors as she ignores them to study Negan, looking for a further indication of his approval as she dusts herself off and rights her clothing. 

Negan turns her around once she’s upright, pressing his chest against the sweat-soaked t-shirt sticking to her back. The last walker wanders in their direction as Negan leans towards Jo to murmur in her ear. She shivers visibly at Negan’s unnecessary closeness, though she listens carefully as he wraps a large hand around her tiny wrist and instructs her how to plunge her weapon in and out of the walker’s skull without it getting stuck and putting her in danger again. 

When the walker is within reach, Negan steps back to give Jo some space, watching with a pleased smile as she takes down the corpse with ease. The walker falls to the ground at Jo’s feet, causing her to take a step backwards right into Negan’s grasp once more. He locks a sinewy arm around her middle, paying no mind to his men standing nearby as he presses his hips into Jo’s ass, letting her feel his inexplicable erection while he whispers hotly into her ear. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he utters. “Me, on the other hand…” he trails off, grinning when Jo stiffens in his arms and lets out an adorable little gasp. 

He holds her a moment longer before trailing his free hand from her shoulder down to her wrist to wrap his larger hand around hers. Negan pushes his fingers into her clenched hand, attempting to pry the filthy knife out of her hand. Though he doubts she’s stupid enough to try anything, he doesn’t want to risk spooking her with his continued salacious flirtations and end up with his throat slit. 

Jo resists, snatching her hand away from Negan and rounding on him. He prepares himself to take her down, but he quickly realizes she isn’t going after him. Looking down at the dripping weapon, Jo notices what a mess it is. Feeling generous, she wipes the silver blade delicately across her thigh, soaking up the residual moisture and viscera with her pants. With the edge of her t-shirt, she cleans off the handle as well before extending her arm to present the cleansed weapon to it’s rightful owner. Negan takes a hold of her forearm instead, yanking her forward and into his chest as he braces a warm palm uncomfortably close to her backside. 

“Let’s get you in a shower, dirty girl,” Negan growls, leaning close and invading Jo’s personal space. 

Giving him a dirty look, Jo steps away before abruptly changing the subject. “I’m good with a knife, but I’m better with a gun. I’d like the one your men stole from me back,” she requests. She’s more than proved that she’s ready and able to work with Negan, the least he can do is return her property and give her a decent weapon. 

“You mean the gun you tried to _kill_ my men with?” he bites out. Jo can’t tell if his anger is a product of her continued rejection or because she’d tried to harm his men, but she suddenly finds herself regretting even bringing it up. 

“I was defending myself,” she counters, raising her head to meet Negan’s eyes defiantly. 

Negan doesn’t respond, merely commands Jo and the Saviors to start heading back to the Sanctuary. The trek back is awkwardly silent and Jo has no desire to drum up a conversation. Let Negan stew in his anger and act like a child, she has done nothing wrong. The front gate opens immediately upon their arrival, and Jo finds herself picking up the pace in order to get to her shower faster. Before she can separate from the group, Negan flings his arm out against her chest, halting her steps. 

“Come with me,” he intones lowly. 

Jo furrows her brow in confusion, but follows behind Negan as he heads for the fleet of cargo trucks. Among the trucks, several Saviors are cleaning and loading their weapons, apparently preparing for today’s runs. She continues following Negan towards the truck at the end of the line where Simon is climbing into the driver’s seat. Negan swings the passenger side door open and points inside, indicating that he wants Jo to get in. She hesitates for a moment, not understanding why he’s telling her to get in the truck. 

“But…my shower,” she mutters dumbly, looking down at her filthy body and splattered clothing. Jo had very much set her mind on getting clean and that fact has her feeling all the more gross the longer she stays dirty. 

“ _In_ ,” Negan demands. “You want that gun back, you’re gonna have to earn it.” 

With a sigh, Jo relents and hauls herself onto the running board alongside the truck before swinging up into the seat. She’s surprised when Negan hops in beside her, roughly shoving her over so he can shut the door without crushing himself. She feels self-conscious all of a sudden, not wanting to be in such a tight space with two men when she’s covered in filth and smelling less than pleasant. 

The drive is silent and mercilessly short, saving Jo from the awkward tension she’s suffering from. Glancing at her surroundings, they seem to be in some sort of abandoned town. This means they’re only looking for supplies today rather than making a pick-up from one of the many communities they control. Boring, but better than nothing. When the truck stops, Jo hops out after Negan and Simon, circling around to watch as Simon rifles through a box in the back of the truck. Whirling around with a wide smile, he hands Jo a crowbar, making her giggle at how dramatically he hands it to her. 

“Stay where I can see you,” Negan interrupts, his words sharp and cold. 

Begrudgingly trailing behind Negan as he swaggers along the deserted streets, she peeks into each window of the buildings as she passes by. Everything looks as though it’s already been picked through, leaving very little for the Saviors to collect. Jo passes by a boarded up door, the bottom half of the sheet of plywood busted open. She bends at the waist, tilting her head upside down to glance into the building through the hole. Negan chooses that moment to turn around, straightaway spotting her angled body and the way her position tightens her pants across her shapely ass. When he lets out a piercing whistle of approval, she shoots up, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder before giving him the finger. They continue strolling along together before Negan stops outside a small store. 

“Wait out here,” he instructs, stepping over a pile of rubble to disappear inside. 

Jo waits impatiently for Negan’s return, bouncing on the balls of her feet while he searches the interior of the building. Just then, she hears a sharp scream of panic from nearby. For a moment she considers staying where Negan left her, but the blatant fear in the feminine screech has her sprinting to the other side of the street and into the adjacent store. Once inside, she quickly spots the source of the scream. On the tile floor is a skinny blonde woman flailing beneath a corpse that has to weigh at least 200 pounds. Jo recognizes the young woman as one of her fellow Saviors and she quickly jumps into action. 

Running at the pair, Jo swings her crowbar mightily, whacking the walker in the side of the head. Somehow she manages to put enough force behind the impact to knock him right off of the terrified woman beneath him. The walker continues waving his arms and spitting angrily so Jo crashes her crowbar down on his face until he ceases moving and there’s nothing left of his head but a thick pile of decayed flesh. With the situation handled, Jo holds her hand out to the woman to pull her off the ground. 

Before the other woman can open her mouth and convey a single word of gratitude, Jo hears the throaty growl of another walker just as it grabs her from behind. She tries to pivot out of it’s grasp, but her efforts are unsuccessful and in the commotion, her crowbar slips from her fingers. Dropping into a crouch, Jo manages to release herself long enough to crawl away from the creature. It looms over her as she tries to slide quickly past it’s legs to grab her weapon, but it’s lands directly on top of her. Just as she prepares for the monster’s bite against her flesh, a loud thwack paired with a shower of liquid interrupts her expectation. Negan’s booming voice rings out so loudly she’s surprised the windows don’t shatter. 

“What the holy _motherfuckin_ ’ hell are you doing? I told you to stay put!” he hollers, looming over her sprawled form. 

“She was in trouble,” Jo explains from the ground, nodding her head in the direction of the other woman. “What was I supposed to do, let her fucking die?” She knows she should control her tone and attitude, but she can’t help herself. Between her adrenaline and Negan’s unwarranted rage, there’s no chance of her holding back. 

“What you’re _supposed_ to do is follow my fuckin’ orders! Then maybe I wouldn’t have to come save your ass when your little hero act has you almost getting yourself killed!” he yells back as he moves around the room, dropping Lucille on a nearby counter as he paces in anger. 

Jo clambers to her feet then, bracing herself for a fight after hearing Negan’s condescending words. “ _Maybe_ if I had my fucking gun, I wouldn’t have to worry about dying, you stupid goddamn jackass!” she snarls viciously. The unbearably tense silence that blankets the room lets Jo know she should regret the words that just flew from her lips, but she’s too far beyond enraged to give a shit. 

“What the _fuck_ did you just fuckin’ say to me?” Negan growls, enunciating each word slowly. 

“Oh, are you fucking stupid _and_ deaf now?” Jo retorts, knowing that she’s just digging herself deeper into this hole. 

“Laura, get out,” Negan demands, not taking his eyes off Jo as he addresses the other woman who promptly scurries out of the building. 

Negan sets into motion then, his long legs carrying him with frightful speed straight for Jo. She instinctively backs away from Negan’s aggressive approach, stopping herself before she takes more than two tiny steps. He can flip his shit all he wants, she isn’t going to back down. When he’s within arm’s reach, Negan slaps a leather-clad hand around Jo’s throat, slamming her backwards against the wall. The jarring force rattles her bones and bangs her head against the plaster, but she doesn’t react. 

“You are fuckin’ _done_ ,” he snarls, increasing the pressure of his long fingers around her throat. “You’ve more than proven your inability to follow simple orders and show some goddamn respect, so now you’re gonna pay. When we get back, your life is gonna be _hell_.” 

Jo bares her teeth at Negan’s threatening words, her whole body starting to shake with fury. Lifting an arm, she slams her elbow down against Negan’s forearm, ripping his hand off of her throat. Free from his grasp, she turns on him, attacking him with her fists as she pushes him back and punches every part of him she can reach. One of her flying fists catch Negan right in the mouth and when he grunts in pain, she finally lets up. Her physical assault has halted, but Jo isn’t quite finished with him. 

“Are you fucking serious, Negan?” Jo screams, slapping both hands against his broad chest. “Are you _really_ gonna punish me for saving one of your people?! Because if that’s the case, next time someone needs my help I’ll let them fucking die. I’m sorry you have some bullshit notion that you have total power me, but I figured saving someone’s life was more important than listening to you order me around like a fucking dog!" 

Through her whole tirade, Negan had merely stood by and listened to Jo’s rant, panting hard as he wiped the drops of blood from his lip with the back of his bare hand. The moment she finishes, he’s on her again. Taking her wrists in one hand, he pins them on the wall above her head and grips her chin in his other hand. Moving close to her face, Negan doesn’t speak, only breathes heavily between his clenched teeth. Jo hates that his dominant, violent behavior and manhandling turns her on, almost as much as his passionate anger does. Her chest heaves just as heavily as Negan’s does as his hot breath fans over her face and chest. As his wrath starts to gradually fade, Jo can tell that – by some miracle – he seems to be accepting her words. 

"You are on seriously thin fuckin’ ice, Jo. You got some beach ball-sized lady nuts, I’ll give you that. But if you _ever_ disobey me or talk back like that again, I will break your pretty little neck,” Negan hisses, not caring that his words flick drops of saliva on her face. 

Negan lets go of Jo’s throat only to take a harsh grip on her upper arm instead. He grabs Lucille and drags Jo out of the store, showing no concern for her lagging steps as he carries most of her weight and treats her like a ragdoll. Jo feels very much like a misbehaving child, being dragged by her parent to be punished, though she knows better than to object to Negan’s rough treatment. She lets Negan toss her back into the truck with Simon and remains perfectly quiet the whole way home, knowing that she’s already done enough to almost fuck up a good thing for herself and doesn’t want to make it any worse.


	11. Tie The Noose

Following Jo’s little outburst of insubordination on her first run, Negan had given her the cold shoulder for a few days. They’d been on several runs together since and she’d stayed in line, not talking back or breaking any rules. Eventually Negan had seen her obedience and started to warm up to her again, not that anything about Negan was really ever particularly warm or inviting. After a few days, he’d returned to his usual self, resuming his dogged pursuit of Jo with his constant harassment and sexual flirting.

At first, Jo had been glad for things to fall back into their normal routine until she remembered just how exhausting Negan is. Male attention had never been something she strived for, and Negan’s abundance of it wore out it’s welcome quite quickly. Besides being a distraction from her work when his dirty comments got her flustered, it left her on edge and inattentive with arousal. She barely made it through each day, racing to her room every night to take care of her problem with her nimble fingers. Some nights she’d have to masturbate several times just to take the edge off. It occurred to her that she’d never had a true orgasm in her life, only ever gotten far enough to relieve some of the growing pressure in her core. That in itself was frustrating enough, but with Negan on top of it, she was in an unbearable state of constant arousal. 

Trying not to think of the bothersome man, Jo refocuses on the swirling pressure against her clit. She picks up the speed of her circling fingers, working tirelessly for any amount of pressure. She continues for several minutes before groaning in frustration when she realizes she’s getting nowhere. Her fingers alone aren’t enough and with much resentment, she gives in to the invading thoughts she has been trying to ward off. 

Slowing the motion of her hand, Jo huffs gently as she sinks into her own imagination. In her mind, she pictures his face – expressive hazel eyes, sharp nose, plump lips, and stubbled cheeks. Her whole body clenches the moment she thinks of Negan. Shame colors her already flushed skin as she pictures his lips on her flesh and his hands all over her body. 

Just as Jo lets out a loud, throaty moan, Negan is heading down the hall towards his room. The sound filters under Jo’s door and reaches the man’s ears. He pauses for a moment, waiting to see if he’d just imagined the noise. Jo moans again and Negan confirms that he’d definitely heard the sound. He isn’t sure, but the vocalization coming from Jo’s room sounds as if she might be in pain. Ever the helping hand, he steps slowly to the end of the hall, pressing his ear to the crack of the door to make sure she’s okay. What he hears shocks him and has him hard in no time at all. 

“Fuck, oh shit,” Jo whines from within the room. “ _Please_ , Negan. Oh my god.” 

Jo’s desperate, heated words floor him so much that Negan remains frozen for several long seconds. His motionlessness doesn’t last long as Jo’s moans and cries continue. Not able to stand outside a moment longer, Negan bursts through the door to catch Jo in her raunchy act. 

The sound of her door whipping open rips Jo from her fantasy and her hand from inside her damp underwear. With her moist fingers, she fists her blankets in her hands, pulling them to her chin as she sits up in bed and presses her back to the wall behind her. 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account, sweetheart,” Negan rasps, stepping into the room and shutting the door gently behind him. “By all means, continue.” 

Jo promptly ignores his words, neither confirming nor denying his suspicions as she tries to steer the situation in another direction. “Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?!” she bursts out, her voice shaking in fright and embarrassment. 

“Baby, the only thing I’m worried about hearing is the way you were just moanin’ my name while – I assume – your fingers were buried deep in your pretty little pussy,” he taunts, meandering closer and closer to Jo’s bed as he speaks. “Like I said… _don’t_ let me interrupt." 

Jo’s face heats up and she blushes fiercely. She knows she’s been caught and there’s really no way for her to talk her way out of this one. Gulping loudly, she pulls her blankets closer to her tightly-wound body as Negan continues to advance on her. When he reaches a hand out towards the bottom edge of her blanket, her heart begins to pound erratically in her chest. She gasps sharply when Negan tightens his fist in the soft material and yanks it clear off her body. 

Jo wraps her arms around her chest to cover the way her hardened nipples press against the front of her light gray t-shirt and squeezes her legs shut to hide any evidence of moisture on her plain white panties. She curls into herself, uselessly trying to protect herself from Negan’s intruding, blazing gaze. He licks his lips lasciviously and Jo tries to ignore the way he grips the massive bulge tenting the front of his pants. 

"Touch yourself for me,” he orders hoarsely as he sits on the side of Jo’s bed, placing himself so close that his leg brushes against her toes. She doesn’t move an inch, merely stares at Negan with her mouth hanging open slightly. “Do _not_ make me have to tell you again.” 

Hearing the dominance in his voice, Jo feels a fresh wave of moisture spill from her body. In a motion that feels entirely like her own body betraying her, Jo spreads her legs a tiny bit. Breathing heavily, she drops her arms from her chest to her stomach. She leaves her hands there for a moment before gathering the courage to move them lower. Negan watches every one of her movements with intensity and rapt interest, his darkened eyes prodding her to continue. Not wanting to give in but unable to fight her body’s desires, Jo trails her hands over her hips before dipping one under the waistband of her thin panties. 

Jo rubs her fingers gingerly against her folds, occasionally circling the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Before she can make much progress, Negan lifts his hands to her knees and roughly wrenches her thighs apart to give himself a better view. She’s embarrassed by her own wanton behavior, but she’s too caught up in Negan’s piercing gaze to tear her eyes from his and look away in shame. 

Negan’s gaze lingers on Jo’s face before his dilated eyes drop to her pelvis and his lips part in desire while he watches her maneuver her hand between her trim thighs. Jo continues touching herself shyly, her body starting to twitch and writhe. A small moan escapes her and she bites down on her lower lip to contain any further noises. In a flash of movement, Negan grips her wrist tightly and jerks Jo’s hand away from her body. Making eye contact with her once more, he hastily lifts her hand to his face, taking her moist fingers into his mouth. Jo nearly passes out at the wave of heat that passes through her when Negan sucks her arousal off of her fingers, tasting her with a deep groan. 

“Fuckin’ goddamn, you taste delicious,” he breathes, pressing his hot tongue between Jo’s two fingers before swirling it around the thin digits. 

Negan sucks her fingertips into his mouth again before releasing them with a pop and pushing her wet fingers back between her legs. Jo returns her hand to her dripping folds, using Negan’s saliva to further lubricate herself. Watching her closely, Negan scoots nearer, pressing her thighs wider to make room for himself. He pulls one of her legs over his lap, separating her thighs with his body as he braces himself above her. The heat and proximity of Negan’s body pushes Jo deeper into her cloud of lust and she rubs her fingers against herself more aggressively. Her hips lift from the mattress, bumping against the arm Negan has braced beside her body. She pants and cries out as she feels herself nearing an elusive climax. 

“Go ahead, cum for me,” Negan growls, his respective arousal more than clear in his deepened, rough voice. 

Jo moans louder at his words, working her fingers in even faster, tighter circles. She feels herself closing in on her orgasm and her thighs begin to shake as she tries to shut them around her own hand. Negan presses his palms against Jo’s twitching legs, keeping them parted. With her climax remaining just outside of her grasp, Jo whines pitifully in frustration and need. 

“I…I can’t,” she admits, closing her eyes in defeat. 

“Don’t be shy, baby girl. I know you wanna cum for me,” Negan encourages patiently. “It’s okay, let it go.” 

Negan slides his hands along Jo’s thighs, gently massaging the jerking muscles. As much as he wants to help her reach her release, he needs to see her get herself off _for_ him. Maybe it’s all part of his thirst for power, or maybe he’s just selfish that way. 

The warm sensation of Negan’s palms adds to Jo’s pleasure, but it still isn’t enough. No matter how hard and fast she touches herself, she can’t cum. Fed up with trying to get herself off and hoping for Negan’s help, she sucks up her embarrassment and admits to him the one thing she’s never admitted to anyone else. 

“I can’t, Negan. I’ve never…” she whispers, leaving her confession dangling vaguely and hoping Negan catches on. She’s relieved when he does. 

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” he asks in wonder, nearly seeming offended at the mere thought of such a thing. 

“Well, um…I’ve never actually…” she stops mid-sentence again, not quite brave enough to verbally acknowledge her virginity. Thankfully, Negan’s abrupt interruption prevents her from having to. 

“Shit, don’t tell me you’re a virgin,” he bites out, surprising Jo with how angry he sounds. 

Jo looks down, diverting her eyes away from Negan’s blistering stare, fearful that he’s going to be disappointed. Her bright red face and look of humiliation answer Negan’s question when Jo doesn’t. Jo notices how tense he is now, his teeth clenching so hard she wonders how they haven’t yet shattered. The longer the silence stretches, the more intense Negan’s reaction seems to get. His eyes are blazing furiously, his chest heaves, and he seems like he’s going to spontaneously combust at any moment. 

With not a single word further, Negan rises from Jo’s bed and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His speedy exit only serves to further Jo’s total mortification over the whole situation. Not only did she just admit something deeply personal, but Negan had reacted badly. She can’t possibly conceive a reason that he would be angry at her for her admission, but nevertheless he still seems to be. 

Down the hall, Negan stomps hurriedly, fleeing from the young girl’s room. The sad, innocent look on her face when he’d gotten up almost made him stay, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He had to leave following her confession otherwise he would’ve done something he’d absolutely regret. Something like pinning her tight body to the mattress and pounding into her untouched pussy for all he’s worth until she was screaming for him and crying for release. Just the thought of it still has him ready to burst in his pants. 

Negan paces around the maze of halls within his compound, trying to calm himself down while attempting to regain some semblance of sanity. He can’t believe how dangerously close he’d come to taking Jo where she sat, not giving her a chance to say yes or no. He usually has much more self control and his complete lack of it isn’t something he’s proud of. Breathing heavily, he growls in exasperation at his relentless state of arousal. He can’t get the image of Jo touching herself for him out of his head. Not to mention the essence of her he can still vaguely taste on his tongue. It’s going to be a long ass night if he doesn’t do something about the painful erection and blue balls he’s sporting. 

Like a gift from God, the sound of clicking heels echoes faintly through the hallway. Determining which direction the footsteps are coming from, Negan swiftly heads that way in search of the wife they belong to. From around the corner steps Amber, her blonde hair flowing in the breeze as the prances down the hallway. She notices Negan right away but before she can greet him, he already has his hands on her. 

Gripping her shoulders with incredible force, he shoves Amber to her knees. Waiting only for her slight nod of consent, he works quickly, whipping his belt from the loops on his pants before unzipping them and shoving them down his thighs with his underwear. Stepping towards Amber, he slams her head into the wall as he shoves his solid cock all the way into her mouth. He doesn’t show any concern for how hard she hit her head or the way she’s choking on his girth. He really doesn’t care about anything beyond how badly he needs a release right now. Pumping his hips furiously, the tip of his dick taps repeatedly against the back of Amber’s throat, causing her to gag harshly. He knows he should ease up, but the feeling of the woman’s rippling throat around his length prevents him from showing any gentleness. 

After a few more minutes, Negan lets out an animalistic roar as he explodes down Amber’s throat. His cock twitches violently as he fills her mouth with a massive load of cum that starts to spill over her pink lips. With his thighs shaking, Negan pulls away, leaving a trail of spit between Amber’s mouth and his softening member. Looking down, he sees her face covered in a mess of tears, saliva, and cum. The sight of it disgusts him for some reason. Sometimes he just doesn’t understand the group of women who’d agreed to be treated like whores just so they wouldn’t have to work. Make no mistake, he loves having a group of women to use at any given moment, but he feels no sympathy when he treats them like this; they’d made their choices and knew what they were signing up for when they married him. 

Negan tucks himself back into his pants and fastens them up as he watches Amber swallow down everything in her mouth. Not offering a single word to the woman, he turns and struts around the corner in the direction of his room. Negan realizes then that while he’s relieved, he’s nowhere near satisfied and he knows he won’t be until he can have Jo. The image of the inexperienced, writhing girl still burns strongly in his mind’s eye and is going to haunt him endlessly until he can sate his hunger between her beautiful, smooth thighs. 

Back in her room, Jo stands at her bathroom counter, staring at her reflection. Since Negan left, her shame has quickly turned to anger. She despises that he’d been the one she admitted her secret to, only to have him walk away and leave her there feeling like an idiot. On top of that, he’d robbed her of the perfect opportunity for an orgasm. More than anything, she’s disappointed in herself for being so weak, especially in front of Negan. Tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Jo stomps out of the bathroom and jumps back into bed. She curls up beneath her blankets and tries to forget about this whole night. She won’t let Negan get to her. Not anymore. And as hard as it may be, she’s going to keep her distance from him from now on.


	12. Fall Again

Sweat drips off every surface of Jo’s body in the suffocating heat of the box truck. Things have been awkward since her latest night with Negan and it is starting to affect her performance on runs. She’s being careless and sloppy and today it had cost her. She’d gone into a building alone – mostly to get away from Negan’s piercing stare – and in the process of searching through a pharmacy, a wobbly shelf had fallen on her. Not wanting to bring attention to her mistake, Jo struggled fruitlessly to free herself from beneath the heavy shelf. Not until she spotted a walker nearby did she call out for help. Much to her relief, it had been Simon who came to her rescue and not Negan, but regardless, Negan had walked in just as Simon helped her off the ground and they’d had to explain themselves to the man.

Unable to face Negan, Jo opted to ride back to the Sanctuary in the back of one of the trucks rather than subject herself to Negan’s judgmental looks inside the cab with him and Simon. Now that she’s shedding pounds by the minute with the amount of sweat pouring out of her, she wonders which one was really the lesser of two evils. Nearing the end of her tolerance for the heat, Jo almost bursts into tears when the truck rolls to a stop. Within seconds, the back doors pop open, filling the truck with bright sunlight and a wave of fresh air. Crawling sluggishly towards the end of the tailgate, she lets Simon help her down to the ground. She swipes the collar of her t-shirt over her face, absorbing the copious beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. 

Among the group of returning Saviors is talk of some sort of celebration. For several days, Jo has overhead people speaking about it, though she has no interest in partaking in any kind of party. She’d rather spend her time alone in her room. 

“You going to this thing?” she asks, nudging Simon. 

“I’m too old for parties, kid,” he responds. “I’ll be settling in with my bottle of scotch for the night.” 

“Mind if I join ya?” she wonders. 

Simon wraps an arm over her shoulder as they head inside. “Be my guest. Rec room, 11 o'clock?” 

“Isn’t 11 past your bed time, old man?” Jo teases, jabbing her fingers into Simon’s side. 

Before he can respond, a loud voice calls out Jo’s name from behind them. Right away she recognizes who it belongs to and wedges herself out from Simon’s arm as she turns around with a sigh to face Negan. 

“We need to talk. Come see me tonight,” he demands, walking away before she has a chance to argue. 

On her own, Jo drags her feet as she makes her way inside for a much needed shower. When she reaches the hallway to her room, she finds Amber standing outside Negan’s room, looking like a lost puppy. Their eyes meet in distaste for one another as Jo continues down the hallway towards her room, not showing any reaction to the woman. She can’t explain what it is, but something about Amber makes Jo want to wrap her hands around her throat and squeeze the life from her scrawny little body. 

Slamming the door behind her, Jo strips quickly and starts her shower. The steamy water feels heavenly against her sore muscles as it washes away all the layers of filth. Jo gets caught up in the pleasurable heat of the shower before she realizes she’s wasting water. Returning to reality, she shuts the water and dresses in a tight black t-shirt and comfortable cotton shorts before climbing into bed for a short nap. 

Every time Jo lays in her bed, all she can think about is what happened with Negan. She doesn’t feel one way or another about it, but she can’t stand the fact that she can’t seem to just _forget_ about it. It’s all she thinks about during the day when she’s with him on runs and it fills her head at night when she’s trying to sleep. No matter how she tries, she can’t seem to get away from Negan and it’s driving her crazy. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Rubbing the bleariness from her eyes, Jo props her aching body up in bed. She glances at the clock on her bedside table, realizing how late it is. Clearly she was much more tired than she thought when she laid down for a nap earlier. Seeing that it’s nearly 11, she gets ready to meet up with Simon. She drags a brush through her soft hair, tossing the thick mess over her shoulder. Deciding that drinking with Simon isn’t worth getting dressed up for, she merely slips her boots on, the black leather shoes clashing with her casual sleep shorts. 

Jo shuts her doors easily and keeps her clomping to a minimum as she passes by Negan’s door. Even with her efforts to be quiet, she knows from experience that he has inhumanly sharp senses and if he’s in there, he probably already heard her leaving. Not worrying too much about what Negan has to say about her wandering around at such a late hour, Jo speedily makes her way to the rec room. 

As she passes by the cafeteria, she can hear music and voices from the ongoing celebration. She isn’t really sure what the Saviors are celebrating; what is there to be happy about at the end of the world? Leaving them to their partying, she opens the door to the rec room, thinking it’s empty until she spots Simon in the corner. Positioned at a small table, she can see he’s already cracked into his bottle of alcohol. 

“I see you started without me,” she teases lightly. 

“Well, I needed to have a few drinks in me before I could deal with your annoying ass,” Simon retorts. 

“Ha fuckin’ ha. Pour me one, asshole,” Jo demands, sitting down across from Simon as she gestures to the glass bottle. 

Jo watches Simon fill her glass carefully before pushing it towards her. She takes a moment to observe the man across from her. They hadn’t started off on the right foot, what with her being kidnapped by him and all, but their relationship has quickly developed into something Jo enjoys. She knows better than to form emotional attachments with anyone, though she enjoys spending time with Simon. Maybe they aren’t friends, but she likes having someone to keep her from losing her mind to boredom. 

“Wanna play truth or dare?” Simon ponders, interrupting Jo’s musing. 

“What are we, teenage girls at a sleepover?” she giggles as she swallows a mouthful of scotch. The strong alcohol burns it’s way down her throat, causing her to cough several times. 

“Okay then, what do _you_ wanna do, buzzkill?” Simon snarks. 

“No, let’s play truth or dare. You go first though,” she offers. 

“Dare,” he answers quickly. 

Jo thinks for a moment, trying to decide if she should give him something easy or ridiculous. Having mercy, she starts the game off with something simple. 

“I dare you to take a shot with no hands,” she mutters with a tiny smirk. 

Wasting no time, Simon fills his glass to the brim with scotch. He leans over the table, taking the rim of the glass between his teeth before throwing his head back. Jo laughs out loud as the alcohol splashes all over him, some of it going in his mouth and the rest running down the length of his neat mustache. Simon drops the glass from his mouth, catching it mid-air as he laughs along with Jo. He wipes his lips against the back of his hand as he pours another drink for both Jo and himself. They go back and forth several times, taking drinks between every few rounds. Before long, they’re both tipsy and giggly. 

“Your turn,” Simon slurs goofily. 

“Dare,” Jo chooses, deciding to keep the game interesting by choosing the less boring option. 

“I dare you to kiss me,” Simon requests. 

The words instantly sober Jo up a little. She likes Simon, but she isn’t into him; she has no interest in messing around with him. Figuring that one kiss is going to be harmless, Jo jumps in with both feet. Of course, the alcohol is helping further her decision as well. Bracing her elbows on the surface of the table between them, Jo leans towards Simon. He closes the distance rapidly, pressing his lips softly to hers. The kiss is short and simple, lasting only a few seconds before they both pull away. They stare silently at one another for a moment before each bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, shaking their heads and agreeing that what just happened was weird. 

“Okay, that was like kissing my brother or something,” Jo forces out through a giggle. 

“Definitely,” Simon agrees. “Well, at least we cleared the air on that.” 

The pair fall into a comfortable silence after that, sipping their drinks and just enjoying one another’s company. Jo overturns her glass and slams it on the table, tapping out for the night. She’d never been great holding her liquor and with the span of time she’s gone without alcohol, she’s even more of a lightweight than usual. Before long, the sound of the door opening breaks the silence in the room. With her back facing the door, Jo can’t see who it is coming into the room, but based on Simon’s serious expression and the small nod he gives before grabbing his bottle and standing up, she can take a guess. Simon is out of the room before the voice rumbles near her ear. 

“Did you forget something, darlin’?” Negan wonders aloud. Jo shuts her eyes and sighs, immediately remembering that he had wanted to see her. 

“Shit, sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly before attempting to explain. “I didn’t mean to, I just– .” 

“Thought drinking with my right hand man was more important?” he interrupts. “And here I thought you were just avoiding me.” 

“Why would I do that?” Jo asks defensively. 

“I don’t know, maybe because I walked out the other night? I don’t know how you girls operate,” he admits. 

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” Jo asks, slightly affronted by his implication that if she _had_ in fact been avoiding him, it was for something he believed to be irrational simply because she’s a woman. 

“Because I didn’t fuck you,” he offers blandly. 

Jo scoffs at his answer, regarding him with raised eyebrows as if to ask if he’s serious. “I really don’t care, Negan. I’m not even interested,” she lies easily. “Besides…you’re probably old enough to be my father.” 

“Does that mean you’ll call me Daddy?” Negan implores, bending over Jo’s shoulder to whisper darkly in her ear. 

She flinches at his words, not wanting to admit how much his proximity is turning her on. She doesn’t want to be sucked in again by him, but she finds herself unable to resist. Thanks to her alcohol infused mind, she’s even more horny than usual. Negan’s presence in the room doesn’t bode well for her and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to control herself. 

“What were you two even doing in here?” Negan inquires, sitting in the seat Simon had just vacated and propping his bat against the edge of the table. 

“Playing truth or dare,” Jo responds quietly. 

“You still wanna play?” he beseeches with a wide grin. Jo knows that smile is a clear sign she should turn Negan down, but she takes the leap anyway and agrees just to humor him. 

“I’m going first,” she informs him. “Truth.” 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy,” Negan taunts loudly. 

“Hey, I’m being strategic,” Jo contends, pointedly directing her finger in his direction. “I know what you’re like. Your mind is perpetually programmed to something sexual and I have much less to lose if I pick truth. Now go.” 

Negan lifts his hands in an act of surrender before coming up with a question. “How old are you?” he asks, settling for a simple one. 

“I’m 21,” Jo answers. Negan lifts a single eyebrow, his only reaction to her revelation. 

“I’m 43, by the way…before you go wastin’ your time asking me,” he mutters. 

Jo is surprised by Negan’s age, though she doesn’t show it. He looks and acts much younger and she always suspected he was in his mid-30’s at most. Still, the knowledge of his age does nothing to douse her current attraction to him, even if she had been right in assuming he is old enough to be her father. 

They continue their game, Negan opting for truth as well. Jo asks if he has kids or if he ever did, and she’s pleased to learn that the answer is no. When it’s her turn again, Jo chooses truth once more, not willing to open the door for Negan to pick something humiliating for her to do. 

“Why are you still a virgin?” he queries, his serious tone and inevitable sexual question quickly changing the mood of the game. Jo clears her throat and shifts uncomfortably, deciding the best way to answer his question. 

“Scientifically, because my vagina has never been penetrated by a penis,” she begins sarcastically, nearly choking on a laugh at Negan’s blatantly displeased expression. “But I’m assuming that’s not the explanation you’re looking for.” At Negan’s nod, she continues. “I just never had the time or interest for sex. No one ever seemed worth the trouble, I guess. Not that I’m all about that “right person” bullshit or anything, I just never found the person who did it for me, yanno?” 

Negan listens intently to Jo’s words, surprising her with his undivided attention to her explanation. Feeling exposed and awkward, she desperately wants to change the subject. Before Negan can respond, she prods him to take his turn and continue the game. Sensing her discomfort, Negan agrees, selecting truth and letting Jo move on from her vulnerable admission. 

“Why do you have so many wives?” she asks, hoping her tone doesn’t come off as jealous. In truth, she doesn’t really care, she’s just curious. 

“I like to fuck,” Negan explains simply. 

“That’s it? _That’s_ your excuse?” Jo giggles in shock. “So you don’t even care about them?” 

“If you want more answers, you’re gonna have to wait for your next turn, sweetheart,” Negan teases, smoothly skirting around her curiosities. 

Finally deciding to up the stakes a little, Jo picks dare for her next turn. The second the monosyllabic word leaves her lips, she can tell she’s going to regret it. Negan’s dare lives up to all of her expectations, as if he’s just been waiting for her to say the word. 

“I dare you to let me make you cum,” he growls lowly. 

Jo lets out a tiny gasp at Negan’s brash words, not able to stop herself from squirming in her seat. “Answer my question and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she offers daringly. Negan huffs impatiently at her request but ultimately, he gives in. “I care about them as much as they care about me, which is none,” he clarifies. “It’s an arrangement founded purely on convenience. They’re warm bodies and empty holes to fill and I’m a meal ticket who gives them all the shit you couldn’t possibly need to survive. That’s all.” With that, Negan reaches out, grabbing Jo’s chair and screeching it loudly across the floor as he pulls her closer to him. “Now shut the fuck up and spread your legs.”


	13. New Way Out

Negan catches Jo off guard when he reaches around her body and grabs her ass to lift her onto his lap. She straddles his thighs, her legs draped over him and dangling over either side of the chair he sits in. The sudden and unexpected intimacy of their current position already has Jo breathing erratically.

“Calm down before you hyperventilate,” Negan mocks with a smug grin. His demand does absolutely nothing to ease Jo’s nervous behavior. 

Digging her little fists into the leather jacket blanketing Negan’s strong shoulders, she refuses to meet his eyes. She tightens her grip until her arms are shaking when Negan starts to push and pull her hips to grind her pelvis against his growing hardness. Jo lets out a sharp moan when he reaches back to grab her ass again with both hands, squeezing her through her shorts. Just as Negan unties the drawstring on her minuscule shorts and tucks his fingers under the waistband, the sound of distant, rapid gunshots fill the air. 

Acting on instinct, Negan unintentionally shoves Jo from his lap, causing her to tumble to the floor in a jumbled heap. He shoots up to his feet, grabbing Lucille and heading for the door. At the last second, he remembers Jo’s presence and turns around to apologize for being so rough. When he lays eyes on her, he sees her stumbling into the table in chairs, indicating just how drunk she is. 

“Jesus Christ, stay here, Jo,” he scoffs, leaving her behind to go investigate the source of the gunfire. 

Finally climbing to her feet and waiting for the room to cease spinning, Jo swallows back the vomit trying to rise up her throat. On wobbly legs and clumsy feet, she heads out into the hallway. In the direction of the front of the Sanctuary, she can hear a lot of yelling and commotion that seems to be coming from the courtyard. Jo staggers on her way, bursting awkwardly though the front doors when she reaches them. The blast of cool night air serves to sober her up a little and the sight in front of her helps as well. 

Scattered across the gravel are the bodies of at least five Saviors, each one surrounded by a small puddle of blood. Along the fence, a group of Saviors seem to be surrounding something, one of the men calling out for Negan as he traverses the wide yard. 

“We got a live one, boss,” he announces. 

The rest of the Saviors clear out, revealing one man with his knee braced against the back of a young woman. Beside her sits a discarded gun, just out of her reach. When Jo sees the blood pouring down the girl’s face and smearing across her dark skin, she almost feels bad. That is until she realizes that this intruder is clearly responsible for the corpses now decorating the ground. The reality that even _here_ Jo isn’t safe lends a hand to her growing sobriety and she knows the time to leave is growing closer. 

“Bring her to a cell,” Negan barks angrily. “I’ll deal with this one inside.” The tone of his voice doesn’t bode well for the girl and Jo wonders what he’s going to do to her. 

Several Saviors lift the body of the girl, struggling against her strength when she starts to fight back. Eventually, they get her under control, dragging her past Jo and into the building. Right behind them follows Negan, swinging his bat over his shoulder as he marches towards the entrance. He pauses briefly in front of Jo, looking as if he’s warring with what he should say to her. 

“Get some sleep, we got shit to handle tomorrow,” he demands, his succinct words cold and emotionless. 

Jo remains outside for several minutes after Negan departs, breathing in the crisp air to clear her head. Taking in her surroundings, her eyes fall on the group of trucks parked along the perimeter of the fence and an idea occurs to her. She isn’t positive if it’ll work, but she’s willing to just wing it as she goes. Setting her mind on her new found plan of escape, Jo whirls around and quickly makes her way back inside. 

Moving speedily down the hall, Jo tries to think as she walks. From working with the Saviors, she knows that the keys to the trucks are kept inside the armory. Unfortunately, the armory is locked and the only two people who possess a set of keys to that particular door are Negan and Simon. She knows for a fact she’s nowhere near ballsy enough to sneak into Negan’s room. The consequences for that are far too severe for her to even consider. And that leaves her with just one option – to get the keys from Simon. 

No matter how friendly they are with one another, there’s no way Simon is going to just hand the keys over to Jo. Not only is he much too loyal to Negan to go behind his back, he also doesn’t care about Jo enough to risk his position or his life to help her get out. She’s just going to have to figure out how to get the keys on her own. Remembering just how much alcohol Simon had ingested earlier, she prays that it works in her favor. 

Jo navigates the halls, sneaking around until she reaches the row of doors she knows houses the most important Saviors. It’s then that she realizes she hasn’t an earthly clue which room is Simon’s. She considers opening each door to look inside, but she knows that’s going to waste too much time and the chance of someone blowing her plan is only going to increase that way. To her right, a door creaks open, interrupting her thoughts and causing her to plant her body along the wall, though it does little to disguise her. Much to her relief, it’s Laura she spots stepping through the open door. Their eyes meet briefly and Jo decides to use their mutual respect to her advantage. 

“Negan sent me to get Simon, but I have no idea which room is his,” Jo lies smoothly, injecting a bit of desperation and panic into her words to speed things along. 

“Third door on the left,” Laura offers quickly, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder to point down the hall. 

Jo tosses out a quick word of thanks before stalking down the hallway and leaving Laura to return to her room. Now outside Simon’s room, she crosses her fingers in the hopes that the door is unlocked. Reaching out, she nearly cries in relief when the handle twists in her hand. She moves quickly but quietly, swinging the door open and slipping inside before anyone else can spot her. 

She stands against the closed door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the pitch blackness of the room. Jo hopes more than anything that the alcohol in Simon’s system has knocked him out cold so she can safely scavenge around his room for the keys. Over the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears, she can just make out the rhythmic sounds of Simon’s deep breathing, letting her know that he’s asleep. As long as he stays that way, she’s going to be just fine. 

Shuffling as silently as possible, Jo puts her hands out in front of her, ready to stop herself from walking into anything she can’t see. She assumes Simon’s room is set up similarly to hers and stealthily makes her way over to where she hopes the dresser is located. Her fingertips touch the wooden surface just before her body hits it and she begins to slide her hands along the piece of furniture. Her fingers brush against a thick leather belt and she can feel the attached holster and gun. Jo considers taking it, but she knows that’s not what she’s here for. She’s just trying to get out, not kill anybody. 

Jo is just about to give up her groping of Simon’s dresser when her palm hits a set of keys and knocks them to the floor. The keys jangle loudly on impact, and her breath catches in her throat. Her lungs are paralyzed in fear as she braces herself to be caught. When Simon continues to breathe steadily, she releases a rush of air as she crouches down. Feeling around blindly, she finally manages to locate the keyring and snatch it up. Jo retraces her steps rapidly, squeezing her way back out into the hallway with Simon left unaware of her theft. 

Making sure to clutch the keys tightly so as not to let them jingle with each step, Jo hurries towards the armory. She works as quickly as she can with her shaking hands to slide the key into the lock and get inside before anyone passes by and catches her in the act. Jo dares to flip the switch and turn the lights on in the room, figuring that the risk of being discovered is worth utilizing the lights to streamline her search for the keys to a truck. Locating the pegboard where all the keys dangle, she reads the numbered tags before realizing she has no idea how the numbers correspond to each truck. Hoping that she won’t have to test the key in each ignition, she grabs the one labeled “#1” off the hook. 

Jo spares one last look at the armory before deciding that maybe she does in fact need a weapon. If her plan works and she gets out, she’s definitely going to need something to defend herself outside the protective walls of the Sanctuary. Selecting a lightweight machine gun from the display on the wall, she makes sure the firearm is fully loaded before sliding the strap across her chest and adjusting the weapon against her back. 

She shuts the lights and slips back out into the hallway, glancing both ways before making a run for it. Now fueled by her rush of adrenaline, Jo practically sprints towards the front door. Her panting breaths send little clouds of vapor into the chilly air as she steps outside. She knows that Negan is probably too preoccupied with the earlier invasion to be around, and she hopes that the guards are more interested with what’s going on outside the gates than what anyone is doing inside. 

Still, she moves furtively across the gravel yard, making sure to keep herself veiled in the shadows. When she reaches the long line of cargo trucks, she presses herself up against the side of the first one, pausing momentarily to check that she’s in the clear. Stretching her arm up, she grips the handle of the door and pulls, relieved when it pops open. Jo struggles a bit to drag her body into the high cab of the truck, staying low to hide out of view through the windshield. She shoves the key into the ignition, but growls in defeat when the key won’t turn. Taking it back out, she slides out of the truck and shuts the door as gently as possible before moving on to the next one. 

Jo repeats her actions in the next two trucks, her hope dwindling when she can’t seem to find the right truck for her stolen key. Now sweaty with exertion and running out of patience, she makes her way into yet another truck. The sound of a door slamming from the nearby building has Jo halting her movements. She can hear voices nearby so she pulls herself up into the truck and shuts the door behind her to hide the fact that she’s even there. Closed up inside the truck, Jo considers how she’s going to execute her plan. In the event that she finally manages to get a truck started, there still remains the issue of the gate. At that point, she figures having to mow down a portion of the fence is going to be the least of her issues and she’ll do whatever she has to in order to escape. 

Finding that this truck is also not the one she’s looking for, Jo pops the door open before rolling onto her stomach and easing her feet down to the ground. While she’s dangling halfway out of the tall truck, the sound of crunching gravel catches her attention. Her blood freezes in her veins when that sound is followed by the deep tones of Negan’s booming voice. 

“I hope to _God_ you aren’t about to steal one of my trucks. _Please_ tell me that’s not what I’m fuckin’ seeing right now,” he states, his eerily calm but forceful tone letting on just how pissed he is. “Because that is certainly _not_ going to end well for you, little girl." 

Jo drops to the ground then, turning slowly to face the imposing man behind her. She’s deeply relieved to see he is without his bat, but that relief is short-lived as he promptly closes the minimal space between them and traps Jo up against the filthy exterior of the truck. He glares furiously at her, clearly expecting her to explain herself and admit her attempted crime. 

"I wasn't–,” she tries to deny the accusation, but Negan swiftly cuts her off. 

“Do _NOT_ even fuckin’ think about lying to me,” he snarls dangerously. “It’s only gonna make this shit worse for you.” 

Jo gulps nervously, not really wanting to find out exactly what “this shit” is. She mentally berates herself for taking so much time and not moving fast enough to get out before Negan caught her. Now she’ll never get such a perfect opportunity to escape again because there’s no way he’s going to let her out of his sight after this. That’s of course assuming she even lives through the night; it isn’t beyond him to decide she isn’t worth the trouble and just toss her into the furnace or something equally as cruel. 

“You think I ain’t got enough goddamn fuckin’ shit to deal with? That I need this shit too?” he hisses rhetorically. “I got half a dozen dead soldiers and you think I wanna come out here and find your ass sneaking around trying to steal from me _again_?” 

Knowing that her defiance will surely get her killed right now, Jo plays to Negan’s expectations and adopts a guilty expression. She shakes her head in response to his questioning, well aware that penitence will go a long way in making her punishment much less severe. She feels no real guilt for pissing Negan off, just wants to speed along the process so she can find her next means of escape as soon as possible. 

Apparently done speaking, Negan takes a harsh grip of Jo’s wrist, pulling her away from the truck. It’s then that he flicks his eyes to the gun strapped across her back, the swirling rage in his eyes increasing. 

“Did you pick that gun ‘cause it looks cool?” he taunts, making Jo wonder if he’d lost his mind in his little bout of rage. “You _totally_ did, right?” 

Negan’s apparent amusement – no matter how fake – is incredibly brief and he rips the gun off Jo’s body, holding it in one hand while the other grabs hold of her arm again. He takes off as he drags her alongside him. His long legs take lengthy strides that she has no hope of keeping up with unless she adopts a trotting gait. Negan hauls her through the Sanctuary and she’s pleased to see he’s taking her in the direction of her room rather than towards one of the cells. 

Outside her room, Negan turns on her, pinning her painfully against the wall as he speaks mere inches from her face. “We’re not fuckin’ done here,” he promises. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow. If you so much as step a single fuckin’ _toe_ outside this room, I’ll throw you in a cell and let you rot until you’re dead." 

Finished spitting his cruel, vicious words, Negan swings Jo’s door open and shoves her inside so hard she nearly trips over her own feet and falls down. He slams the door with enough force to shake the walls, leaving Jo to contemplate and agonize over her impending punishment.


	14. Leave It Alone

The loud knocking against Jo’s door rouses her from her light sleep, prompting her to shuffle across the room. She eases the door open, squinting her eyes against the single bulb dangling in the hallway. The faint details of Simon’s face swim in her vision as she blinks rapidly to clear her eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Simon gruffs, shaking his head in disapproval. 

Jo merely shrugs, assuming that Simon knows everything and she has no need to explain herself. Standing in silence, she waits for Simon to let her know why he’s here. 

“Get dressed, you’re coming on a run with me today,” he instructs, immediately sensing her hesitation to go against Negan’s previous orders. “Negan knows. He’s got a situation over at Alexandria, so I need bodies with me and he said to take you.” 

Jo’s eyebrow quirks at the mention of the notoriously problematic community; apparently the murder of two members she’d witnessed hadn’t been enough to convince these people to follow the rules. She wonders what they could’ve possibly done now that caused Negan to have to make a special trip to see them. Perhaps the woman who came in on a suicide mission has something to do with it. 

“Hop to it,” Simon barks, pushing Jo from her thoughts and leaving her to get ready for the run. 

Once she’s dressed properly and armed with her trusty crowbar, she makes her way to the yard, spotting Simon and making her way over. He doesn’t speak, only directs her into the truck so they can get out and back home as quickly as possible. Jo spends most of the drive not speaking, but before long she starts up a conversation, unable to stand the silence any longer. At first, Simon is closed off to her, but eventually he gives in and they’re back to acting like old pals. 

The run goes off without a hitch, exceeding the Saviors’ expectations with the amount of supplies they manage to gather. Jo and Simon joke around like usual as they load everything into the back of the trucks. Satisfied with their efforts, they all climb back into their respective trucks and head back to the Sanctuary. 

Upon their arrival, Jo hurries to help unload their looted goods, but her work is interrupted when Dwight approaches. He pulls her aside, away from the others before speaking lowly to her. 

“Negan’s waiting for you in his room,” he whispers. Jo can’t figure out why Dwight feels the need to act all secretive, but it has her feeling suspicious. “You got 10 minutes, go clean up.” 

Not wanting to keep the perpetually angry man waiting, she immediately walks away from her duties to go inside. The moment she’s inside her room, she strips down and hops in the shower, wanting to utilize every moment she has in order to get clean. She scrubs harshly against her skin, groaning as she realizes she doesn’t have enough time to brush out her messy bun and wash her hair. Finishing her shower, she dresses in fresh clothes and drags herself to the lion’s den. 

The sound of knocking against Negan’s door almost sends him into a rage as he doesn’t want to be disturbed by anyone, until he remembers he’d requested Jo’s presence. Calling out for her to enter, he watches the timid girl step inside from his perch on the plush leather couch. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jo asks softly, seeing Negan motion her over to him. On her way to him, she observes the stress and tension that is written all over his face. 

“Sit,” he orders, pointing to the opposite couch. 

Jo plops down immediately, waiting anxiously to see what Negan wants from her. Deep down she already knows. She’s here to be punished. She assumes she’s going to be demoted from her ranking as a Savior and relegated to some shitty, miserable job. It’s not as if she doesn’t deserve it for all of her infractions and things she’s done to set Negan off, most of which he’s pretty much let her get away with so far. 

“You know I have to punish you,” Negan murmurs, confirming Jo’s suspicions. “It’s my own fault that you continue to fuck up, but now it’s gotten out of control. I’m gonna make sure you don’t step out of line again.” 

Negan’s words send a shot of fear through Jo’s body. He’s being vague, but the underlying threat is still clear in his statement. She panics a bit when he rises from the couch and approaches her where she remains seated. A shocked gasp escapes her when Negan lashes out to dig his fingers into her haphazard bun, wrapping her hair around his fist as he yanks her to her feet. 

“Spanking you didn’t seem to do much the last time, but perhaps I went too easy on you,” he growls. “Maybe once your ass is a nice shade of red, you’ll have learned your fuckin’ lesson.” 

Jo whimpers in his grasp as Negan drags her around the couch and bends her over the leather arm. She shifts her feet, trying to change her position to make herself more comfortable, but the sharp slap against her ass assures her Negan doesn’t want her to move. With impressive speed and strength, Negan manages to pull Jo’s tight cargo shorts and underwear down to her ankles. 

The moment she starts squirming, Negan slaps either side of Jo’s ass with painful force. He pauses momentarily before continuing his assault, rapidly hitting Jo’s plump flesh until his palm begins to burn. He gives her a short break before resuming the harsh spanking, feeling himself growing hard at the sight of his red handprints covering her ass. Jo’s punishment continues for several long minutes until she’s crying out and tears start to roll down her face. Mercifully, Negan halts his brutal, stinging slaps before jerking Jo upright and pulling her to his firm chest. 

“Take a breather, I’m not done with you yet,” he rasps in her ear, his beard scraping against the side of her neck, sending tingles down her spine. 

Not giving her enough time to fully recover, Negan uses his maintained grip in her hair to drag her across the room, barely giving her a moments pause to step out of the clothing tangled around her ankles. His movement pulls painfully against her scalp, but she doesn’t protest as he forces her stumbling body onto his bed. The touch of the cool sheets against her sore skin causes her to wince as she scrambles up onto her elbows. Before she has a chance to close her legs and preserve some semblance of dignity, Negan wedges himself between her thighs, blatantly staring down at her. 

“I don’t think it counts as a punishment if it makes your pussy drip all over my nice, clean sheets,” he taunts, making Jo blush with embarrassment. 

The sight of the girl’s soaked and swollen folds has Negan momentarily forgetting his purpose. He wants to punish her, though not nearly as much as he wants to make her cum. Somehow he’ll find a way to kill two birds with one stone. 

“You want me, sweetheart?” Negan asks smugly, grinning to himself as Jo hesitates, then nods shyly. “Use your words,” he demands lowly. 

“Y-yes,” Jo forces out, her cheeks burning brightly. 

Pushing her body across the mattress, Negan lays on his stomach and slides himself between Jo’s thighs. He braces himself, hovering just above her body with his warm breath tickling her core. Jo’s breathing picks up and she wrings her tiny fists into the hem of her thin t-shirt. 

“Don’t move and don’t fuckin’ cum, not until I tell you to,” Negan instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This is for me, not for you.” 

“Um, Negan,” Jo whines nervously, trying her best _not_ to squirm away from the man between her legs. 

Her attempts at escape are only going to procure further punishment. Unless she blatantly tells Negan no, she knows there’s no stopping him from getting what he wants from her. Negan presses his lips to Jo’s trembling thigh, immediately sucking sharply against the tender skin before leaning back to observe the deep purple mark he leaves behind. Smiling in satisfaction, he repeats the act several times on each inner thigh, dotting Jo’s skin with his mark. 

“Stop wiggling,” he whispers sternly as Jo wriggles with need. Wanting to halt her desperate movements, Negan tucks one leg under his arm and props her other calf over his shoulder. “If you want me to eat this pretty pussy, you better start fuckin’ listening.” 

Jo watches Negan’s eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of her sopping pussy, licking his lips hungrily as he closes the distance between them. A startled gasp falls from her pursed lips when Negan’s hot tongue makes contact with her pulsating flesh. He wastes no time bathing her folds in his saliva, making sure to lick and suck at every inch of her. Jo cries out repeatedly, her head thrown back in ecstasy as Negan’s skilled tongue trails up and down her nether lips. She’d heard several rumors of his sexual prowess, but now there’s no doubt in her mind just how true they are. 

The foreign sensation of stimulus has Jo panting in satisfaction, but it’s nothing compared to the blazing pleasure that engulfs her body when Negan takes her stiff clit between his lips and sucks harshly. Jo is powerless to stop the scream that rips from her throat as her whole body curls in on itself, every muscle taut and quivering. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” Negan rasps, lifting his glistening lips from Jo’s body to spit his command. 

Struggling to get her eyes to focus, she obeys. Still propped on her elbows, her eyes meet Negan’s as he returns his lips to the throbbing bundle of nerves between her thighs. Jo whimpers and whines, urging Negan on. She swore she wouldn’t give in, but right now she doesn’t give a shit about anything aside from the way Negan is making her feel. She swivels her hips desperately, trying to press herself more firmly against Negan’s moist mouth. Just as she feels herself closing in on her orgasm, Negan pulls his mouth away with a wet pop. 

“Not yet, little one,” he teases with an amused smirk. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” 

Jo tosses her head back, plopping against the mattress in frustration as she feels the bed shift beneath her. Negan drags his body over hers, bracing his palms beside her body as he looms above her, his lips inches from hers. 

“Taste yourself,” Negan whispers, his warm breath swirling over Jo’s heated cheeks. 

He lowers himself then, dropping his moist lips to Jo’s and coating them with the remnants of her arousal that still taint his lips. Negan moves his mouth sensually against Jo’s, pressing his tongue to her sealed lips until she parts them. Sliding his tongue against her’s, Jo can finally taste herself – slightly sweet and just a little salty. She moans quietly, instantly feeling Negan’s lips quirk into a smirk against her own mouth. Just as Jo lets herself get lost in their first kiss, Negan pulls away. 

“Do you wanna cum?” Negan offers, no teasing evident in his words. At Jo’s simple nod, he prompts, “Tell me. Say it.” 

“I…I want to cum,” Jo stutters, struggling to utter the uncomfortable words. “Please,” she adds for good measure. 

Balancing his weight on one hand, Negan trails his palm over Jo’s t-shirt, from her breast to her ribs and down the flat plane of her stomach. He grazes Jo’s skin with a feather light touch, causing her to jerk away from the tickling sensation. Negan smiles at her twitchy movements before slipping his large hand between her thighs. Jo’s breath catches in her throat as Negan sweeps his fingers through her folds before swirling a single digit around her entrance. When Negan presses his fingertip just inside her, Jo panics, her muscles tensing and clenching around the unfamiliar penetration. 

“Relax,” Negan soothes. “You gotta relax.” 

His gentle voice soothes Jo slightly and the relentless pressure of his fingers urges her to let him continue. Nodding her head slightly, Jo does her best to release the tension wracking her body. The moment she does, Negan slips his slender finger further inside her. The intrusion leaves her feeling stretched and full and Jo can’t help wondering how she’ll ever be able to take something larger. As if reading her mind, Negan sits back on his haunches, using his free hand to pull his belt free and unzip his pants. He groans in relief at the slight easing of pressure around his painful erection. 

Seeing Negan heading in a direction Jo isn’t quite prepared for, she tries to skitter away. Negan’s hand follows her movement, not letting her pull away from the slow thrusting of his slicked finger. Sensing her fear, he circles his thumb around her swollen clit to distract her. 

“S’alright, sweetheart…I won’t do anything you don’t want,“ he assures her. He may be a lot of cruel and evil things, but a rapist isn’t one of them. 

Jo visibly relaxes at Negan’s reassurance, letting herself drown in the pleasure blossoming between her thighs. Her chest heaves as she sucks in several deep breaths, overcome by her fast approaching climax. Once again, just as she teeters precariously on the edge, Negan robs her of his touch. This time, Jo makes her displeasure known, growling angrily through clenched teeth. 

“Punishment, sweetheart,” Negan reminds her. “Behave yourself and I’ll let you cum.” 

Huffing in agitation, Jo concedes, quite literally putting her orgasm in Negan’s hands. Those hands are now working quickly, pushing his pants and boxers down to his thighs before wrapping one tight fist around his length. Jo’s jaw drops, taking in the sight of Negan’s impressive cock – thick, long, and lined with several bulging veins. Jo is entranced by the sight and Negan grins knowingly as she admires him. He returns his fingers to her dripping core, pleasuring the both of them with either of his hands. 

Spurred on by the sight of Negan pumping his fist over himself, Jo knows it won’t take much more for her to cum. Her legs shake and her walls flutter around Negan’s invading fingers, prompting him to thrust them harder inside her. Growing more and more vocal, Jo’s sharp yelps let Negan know how close she is. Unsure of the heat blazing through her and the tingling all over her body, Jo furrows her brow, wanting very much to ask Negan to stop as she’s frightened by the intensity of what she’s feeling. 

“Oh god, Negan,” she cries out, grinding her teeth as she tries to fight her powerful orgasm. 

“Don’t be afraid, I got you,” Negan gruffs, slamming his hand against her as he slicks his pre-cum soaked palm along his length. 

Trusting the man hunched over her, Jo tries to give in to what she’s feeling. She moans frantically, calling out as a coil tightens deep inside her. Just when she doesn’t think she can take any more, Negan slides his thumb over her clit, rubbing it vigorously as he curls his fingers inside her. With a flash of heat and a paralyzing wave of euphoria, Jo explodes around Negan’s hand. She cries out loudly, clenching her eyes as her entire body convulses and her pussy coats Negan’s fingers in a generous amount of moisture. 

Negan watches in rapture as the young girl reaches her peak, grinding her body against his hand as her core squeezes his fingers. The erotic sight is incredible, prompting Negan to find his own release. His fist pumps hastily, faltering slightly in it’s rhythm as his balls tighten and his orgasm courses through him. With a deep grunt, Negan explodes, aiming the streaming spurts towards Jo’s body and coating her pelvis in his seed. He feels himself growing hard again almost immediately when he looks down to see Jo covered in the evidence of his arousal, feeling very much like an animal marking it’s territory. 

Jo pants steadily as she tries to recover from her first mind-blowing orgasm. As she comes back down to Earth, her whole body is sticky with sweat and she cringes slightly at the cooling layer of ejaculate spread across her skin. Glancing up at the hulking man above her, Jo suddenly feels self-conscious. Not familiar with what she should do now, she sits up and curls her knees to her chest, not concerned with the still-warm cum that seeps into the lower half of her t-shirt. Negan flops onto his back beside her, nestling into the pile of fluffy pillows with a huff. 

“You should go back to your own room,” he mutters tiredly. Being met with silence, he flicks his eyes to Jo, immediately seeing her offended and confused expression. “Stop overthinking it. If you stay in here, I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from doing something you sure as shit ain’t ready for,” he explains, gesturing to his half-hard dick. 

Jo nods in understanding, hopping from the bed to collect her discarded panties and shorts. She pulls them on, being careful not to smear Negan’s cum on them. Suddenly, she’s glad to be going back to her room so she can clean herself up. Negan drags himself sluggishly from the bed then, pressing his palm to the small of Jo’s back as he opens the door for her and directs her out of the room. 

“By the way, you’re not off the hook yet, darlin’“ Negan declares as Jo heads for her room. “From now on you stick with either me or Simon on the runs. You’re on a short ass leash until I decide you can be trusted to work independently again.” 

With that, Negan slams his door and dismisses Jo as if nothing had just happened between them. Now safely out of her leader’s line of sight, Jo rolls her eyes dramatically. As much as she wants to be angry at Negan and his demanding attitude, she knows she’s getting off easy. Hopefully Negan won’t catch on to the fact that his inability to punish Jo effectively is only going to encourage her to continue acting out and refusing to follow his rules.


	15. All I Was

The pain burning it’s way through Jo’s abdomen is excruciating and almost unbearable. Sweat slicks every inch of her shaking body and nausea envelops her as she tosses and turns in bed. With how unhealthy and underweight she’d been since the start of the apocalypse, Jo’s periods were few and far between; irregular and unpredictable. But when they came, they came _hard_ and left her incapacitated for at least a few hours while the cramps worked themselves out.

Mother Nature has decided to pay her a visit today and she is suffering. The sharp pains had woken her early in the morning and kept her awake ever since. She’s exhausted and dizzy and uncomfortable. Feminine products are hard to come by these days and she hates having to use whatever shitty off-brand pads they manage to find on runs and stock in the commissary. It’s better than nothing, but still unsatisfactory. 

Jo lets out a long, low groan as a particularly brutal cramp assaults her lower half. Her whole body tenses and she holds her breath, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. She lets out a whoosh of air when it does, wrapping her blankets tighter around her narrow shoulders while trying to apply pressure to her stomach to alleviate her discomfort. Several disgruntled whimpers pass her lips as she wishes for nothing more than to just sleep through this. 

Just outside her door, Negan is making his way down the hallway to seek her out. Jo hadn’t shown up for today’s run and he wants to know why she didn’t report for her duties. As he reaches her door, the sound of Jo’s moans fill his ears. Unlike the last time this had happened, Negan is positive the noises he’s hearing are groans of pain. He whips the door open, curious to see what is wrong. 

“Jo?” he calls out, scanning the room before spotting the tiny lump beneath the blankets covering the bed. “You okay?” 

“Go away, Negan,” comes her muffled voice from within the pile of fleece. “It’s nothing.” 

Negan shuts the door then, stepping further into the room. He slowly crosses the room, paying no mind to Jo’s annoyed tone and quick dismissal of his concern. 

“Doll, you’re curled up in a ball, bitchin’ and moanin’…that ain’t nothing,” he counters softly. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jo bites, iciness seeping into her tone. “Just because you made me cum doesn’t mean you have to give a shit about me. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” 

Negan squints his eyes and snorts gently at her words, amused by her grumpiness. He’ll let her attitude go for now, attributing it to whatever is causing her pain. Settling along the edge of the mattress behind Jo’s back, he continues to prod her to get an answer. Whatever is bothering her, he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. 

“Who says I give a shit?” he wonders sarcastically. “Clearly you’re in pain and I’m just trying to be a gentleman and help you out. What’s going on?” 

Jo can’t help the scoff that burns it’s way up her throat. The idea of Negan considering himself a gentleman is too much for her not to react. Sighing in surrender, she buries her head further into her pillow before she admits her predicament. 

“It’s my period,” she mumbles, her tone still annoyed. “I just get really bad cramps, that’s it. I’ll be fine.” 

Negan clicks his tongue sympathetically, reaching out to squeeze Jo’s arm through the thick blankets. “I’ll see if Carson has anything,” he offers. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes, clearly unable to resist the chance to be an asshole. 

Negan rises from Jo’s bed, making quick strides out her door on his way to the infirmary. Jo glorifies in the few minutes of alone time she has while he’s gone. Her heavy eyes fall shut and she just starts to doze off when she hears her door click open and shut once more. 

“Here, take these,” Negan demands, waiting for Jo to sit up in her bed. 

With a small groan, she rolls herself over to look at Negan. He stands at her bedside, a cup of water and two small pills in his hand. Passing them to Jo, he watches her closely as she tosses the pills into her mouth and takes a swig of water to wash them down. She offers a soft word of thanks before flopping back onto her pillows and hoping Negan takes the cue to turn around and leave her the hell alone. 

Jo is surprised when Negan slides his jacket off his broad shoulders and drops it to the floor beside the boots he pops off his feet; though nowhere near as surprised as she is when he lifts the blankets from her body and climbs into the bed beside her. She doesn’t have a chance to open her mouth and protest before Negan has situated himself beneath her blankets as if he belongs in her bed. 

Her whole body is tense and she does everything in her power to slide to the opposite edge of the mattress, preventing Negan’s warm skin from coming in contact with her body. Before she can put a decent amount of distance between herself and the over-sized man, Negan shifts to his side and wraps an arm around her waist. Pulling her down and over, he fits Jo’s body against his, pressing her back to his chest. 

“If you’re seriously expecting sex right now, I hate to tell you that my holes are out of commission,” Jo asserts testily, not believing Negan’s audacity. 

“Jesus, would you shut the fuck up?” he snaps, pressing the width of his hot palm flat against Jo’s abdomen as he begins massaging the cramping muscles. “My wife used to get bad cramps and this usually made her feel better. Now, are you gonna let me try to help or are you gonna keep fuckin’ bitching at me?” 

Jo is taken aback by both his words and the adamant force with which he speaks them. “Fine,” she hisses, huffing out a sharp breath as she shifts in Negan’s hold to make herself more comfortable. A heavy silence befalls them until Jo brings up the bit of information Negan had let slip. “So…you were married?” 

“Yes,” he responds shortly, causing Jo to roll her eyes at how difficult he’s obviously going to make this. 

“Before all of this? Before the wives you have now?” she ponders. 

“Yeah. She was my actual wife,” Negan admits. “Her name was Lucille.” 

“What happened?” she asks, unsure how far she should push for information. “Where is she now?” 

Negan takes a deep breath before replying, “Gone…she’s dead. Cancer. Before the breakout.” 

Jo’s mouth flops open and shut several times as her brain cycles through what to say. None of the words she considers seem like the right ones. She hadn’t expected Negan to open up at all and the revelation he’s made is one Jo wasn’t prepared for. 

“I’m sorry, Negan,” she consoles, placing her fingers gently over the hand he keeps pressed to her lower torso. “I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“Nah, it’s fine,” he sighs. “Just weird to talk about her, I guess. Never told anyone about her.” 

Something in Jo tells her that _she’s_ the reason Negan is opening up. He mentioned that his wife suffered the same pain she currently is and she wonders if the reminder of his late wife is what has softened him up a bit. Negan has always been a stone-cold and uncaring man, it’s possible that the reason he’s being so kind and gentle with Jo is because of the similarities to a women he once loved. She knows better than to get attached to the nurturing behavior or the pleasant heat pressed against her back; this isn’t something someone like Negan is capable of keeping up with, it’s merely happenstance due to the situation. 

“What was she like?” Jo prompts curiously, hoping to keep Negan talking. 

“She was fuckin’ perfect,” Negan blurts out, his smile is evident in his words though Jo detects a hint of sadness. “She was strong and stubborn as shit. But she could be the most caring, passionate woman when she had to be. She was fierce and loyal and I didn’t deserve her one bit.” 

Jo feels tears prick her eyes at Negan’s words. It’s clear how much Negan once loved the woman and she can tell how much he misses her. She wants to turn around and comfort him, but for fear of bursting the bubble of trust and honesty between them, she remains still. 

“She sounds wonderful,” Jo whispers, not knowing what else to say. 

“I wish I appreciated her more,” Negan confesses, his voice strained. “I cheated on her and treated her like shit and it took her falling apart in front of me to stop being such an asshole. And by then, it was too late. I let us fall apart and then I lost her.” 

The knot forming in Jo’s throat seems to grow larger at Negan’s distraught words. She can hardly bear the unfamiliar emotion in his voice, unsure how to process the vulnerability from the man tucked behind her. Instead of saying something to ruin the moment, Jo remains silent, her hand still placed gently atop Negan’s as he rubs slow circles along her abdomen. The touch of his heated palm is helping and Jo’s eyes begin to slip shut, though their current position prevents her from being able to actually fall fully asleep. 

“This is weird,” she finally states, unable to stand the odd, emotional tension between them any longer. “Spooning and oversharing personal details…” she chuckles, letting her words trail off. 

“I was up to my goddamn elbows in your pussy last night and you think a little _cuddling_ is weird?” Negan gruffs, quickly replacing his mask of crude humor to hide the soft underbelly he’d revealed to Jo. His reminder of their fling successfully shuts Jo up and impedes her from mentioning their little heartfelt talk any further. 

Before long, Jo’s body relaxes as her pain eases. Negan stays with her, gently massaging her hips and stomach until she slips into a deep sleep. Once he’s sure she’s out, he drags himself away from her warmth, desperate to escape her room and the weight of the emotional baggage he’d just dropped. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

After being commanded to take several days off until she was back in tip-top shape, Jo is anxious to get back to work. Being relegated to her bedroom had been torture, though she knew it wasn’t worth trying to argue with Negan. Let him exert his power and think he has some kind of control over her. Who is she to turn down a break anyway? 

Cleaning the dried blood and guts off of her crowbar, Jo prepares herself for the day. She makes her way to the cafeteria, meeting up with Simon as they fill their trays with food and take a seat at one of the tables. 

“What happened to you?” Simon mumbles around a mouthful of powdered scrambled eggs. Jo merely raises an eyebrow, unsure of what he’s referring to. “You disappeared after the run the other day and I haven’t seen you since.” 

Jo considers his question for a moment, not knowing if he’s actually concerned or just curious. It’s probable he knows that she’d been to see Negan, but she wonders if he’s digging for something else. Perhaps he’s suspicious of what’s going on between them, but she’d be damned if she confirms or denies anything. Swallowing a mouthful of bitter coffee, she answers carefully. 

“Negan just wanted to talk to me. Chewed me out for what I did and then let me go. By the time he was done bitching, there was no point in me coming back, so I just went to bed,” she explains convincingly. “And then I got sick and _Mein Führer_ refused to let me partake in my own damn job.” 

Jo’s joke and false annoyance works perfectly to assuage Simon’s curiosities. He nods his head slowly as he chews his mediocre breakfast. They share in light conversation as they finish eating before clearing their trays and heading outside to start their day. 

“We’ve got ourselves a little collection run today,” Simon states, turning to face Jo. 

“Seriously, where?!” she chirps, hopping in excitement. After weeks of looting abandoned buildings, she’s itching to do something more exciting. Visiting one of the communities that provide supplies is exactly the kind of fun she’s been hoping for. 

“The Kingdom,” he intones. “Been falling behind with their offerings, so we gotta make sure they know that won’t fly.” 

“Is Negan tagging along to scare up some trouble with his loyal subjects?” Jo mocks as she climbs into the truck beside Simon. 

“Nope, just us lowly Saviors today,” he retorts with a smile. 

When they arrive at the gates of The Kingdom, Jo wonders why their fleet of trucks have stopped before the gates open. Simon hops out and Jo follows, looking behind them to see several other Saviors making their way over as well. By all appearances, they won’t be going inside to collect from the community. 

“Simon, welcome,” a tall man calls out. 

Following the sound of the gruff voice, Jo spots a small group of members from the community. They’re all dressed as if they’re ready for battle – each person decked out in protective gear and Kevlar vests, like some sort of apocalyptic S.W.A.T. team. 

“Good day, Richard!” Simon responds jovially, sauntering towards the small group with his muscular arms spread wide in greeting. “We should have a word while my men load up this week’s tribute.” 

Simon throws an arm around Richard’s shoulders, pulling him away from the group to speak with him. From a short distance away, Jo picks up bits and pieces of the conversation, hearing Simon warn Richard that their offerings have been light and he can’t allow that to continue. With a final assurance that there will be punishment if they continue failing to meet the requirements for the weekly pickup, Simon returns to address the rest of the group. 

“See y'all in a week,” he announces. “Make sure you bring what you’re supposed to.” Simon flicks his eyes to Richard with a tilt of his head; his tone is light, but his warning is serious. With that, the Saviors climb back into their trucks, taking their goods and heading back to the Sanctuary. 

After unloading all the trucks, Jo decides to stick around and wait for Simon. He can’t leave until everything is inventoried, so she keeps him company, talking and joking while the Saviors count and tally their supplies. Before long, a Savior approaches, handing over a worn notebook filled with scribbled numbers. 

“C'mon,” Simon prompts. “Gotta drop this off with Negan and then we’ll grab some grub.” 

Jo trails along behind Simon, suddenly nervous at the prospect of having to see Negan again. After their last encounter, she doesn’t know where they stand. Hopefully, he’d be so weirded out by his own transparency and vulnerability that he’ll never speak to Jo again. Wouldn’t that be nice. Just as they reach Negan’s room, a voice crackles over Simon’s walkie-talkie, summoning him to the loading docks to handle a problem. 

“Here, take this inside,” Simon commands, his instruction met with a horrified look from Jo. “He’s probably not even in there, just leave it on the desk. I’ll come back when I’m done.” 

Jo has no choice but to take the book Simon thrusts against her chest, her mouth flapping open as he flees the area. A wave of dread washes over her, something telling her that there’s no way the room on the other side of the imposing red door is empty. Puffing up her chest with confidence she doesn’t truly feel, Jo knocks on the door, cringing when Negan’s voice grants her entry. 

Sliding into the room, Jo finds Negan seated at his desk before her eyes flit across the room to the figure sprawled across the couch. Of _course_ it would be Amber. Jo can’t comprehend why Negan seems to favor the sniveling, whiny bitch, but to each his own. Disregarding the catty glare she receives from the blonde bimbo lazing about with a plate of food, Jo stalks over to Negan, keeping her distance when he rotates around to face her. 

“You came all the way up here, just to give me this?” he drawls in a voice dripping with arrogance as he reaches for the book dangling from Jo’s outstretched hand. “Shit, did you miss me, doll?” 

Jo doesn’t bother to hide the obnoxious way she rolls her eyes at his immature taunting. Negan knows she isn’t going out of her way by being here, her room is literally feet away from his; he’s just being a dumbass and trying to fuck with her. Whether or not the presence of the wife in the room is serving as an ulterior motive, she isn’t sure. What she is sure of is that she isn’t going to join in on Negan’s little game. 

“You’re so full of yourself, Negan,” she retorts with no emotion, letting him know that his words won’t get a reaction out of her. 

“How’d you like to be full of me too?” he growls, leaning his body forward to look up into Jo’s widened eyes. 

She can’t believe that he’d go so far as to make sexual advances with Amber in the room, but she has a feeling that’s exactly why he’d done it. Whatever he’s playing at, she doesn’t want any part of it; it’s only going to cause trouble for her. Not daring to look at Amber to see her reaction to Negan’s vulgar flirting, she whirls around and hastily exits the room. Heading for her own room, she locks herself inside and curses Negan, hoping that his shenanigans aren’t going to blow back on her.


	16. Unable To See

Jo knew one day the novelty of her would wear off and Negan’s obsession with her would regress. His determination to mess with and seduce her would deteriorate and his leniency would fade with it. Today is that day.

It wasn’t even her fault that things blew up. She’d been going about her business and keeping to herself when Amber opened her big mouth. Jo was fed up with the woman and her apparent hatred and she reacted. Overreacted. 

The day started off the same as any other, monotonous and routine. Breakfast with Simon was just as boring as any other day, as was their uneventful run. The only change in Jo’s day was when she’d been landed with the job of delivering goods to Negan’s wives. Normally, that job was handled by the other Saviors – typically one who didn’t have any sort of tension among the harem of women. For whatever reason, Jo had been tasked with the job today and she knew it was going to end badly. 

Stomping her sore feet down the hall, she carries a heavy crate of clothing, toiletries, snacks, and alcohol. On top of having to perform the ridiculous duty, Jo is appalled by the absurd supplies the wives put in requests for. Everyone else at the Sanctuary worked their asses off to survive and protect the community, meanwhile these women sat around doing fuck all; pampering themselves and being treated like royalty, all the while still having the gall to whine about how bored they are when Negan isn’t around to entertain them with his dick. 

Jo tries to contain her rage before it boils over. She’s grateful she hadn’t been condemned to the same fate of meaningless laziness upon her arrival here. If Negan _ever_ made the mistake of offering her a position as one of his wives, she’d chop his dick off and make him choke on it. 

Arriving at the double oak doors that lead to the open sitting room where the wives spend their days, she wrenches the handle and swings the door open. Inside she’s greeted with curious looks from various women – a slender redhead, a tall woman with smooth, dark skin, as well as Sherry, the brunette Jo has had the most interaction with. Sherry seems to be the one in charge, or at the very least, the one who stands up to Negan the most and keeps the rest of the ladies in line. She’d helped Jo during her first few days here and they had an amiable although short relationship. Jo is relieved to see her least favorite wife absent from the group. She’s probably off clinging to Negan in his room or something. 

“Hi,” Sherry greets softly, making her way over to Jo where she stands dumbly with her arms full of supplies. “You can just put that over here.” 

Following Sherry’s direction, Jo drops the heavy box onto the table in the center of the room. She wipes her sweaty hands on her dirty jeans before fishing around inside the box for the written list. 

“Everything you guys asked for should be in there,” she declares, handing the sheet to Sherry for inspection. 

“Thanks, Jo,” she says with a smile. “Would you like something to drink?” 

“Oh, uh…no, thank you. I should get back to work,” Jo stutters, refusing to stay in this room a single second longer than she has to. 

Unfortunately, her quick dismissal of Sherry’s offer isn’t quite quick enough. The door behind her slams shut and in sashays the bane of Jo’s existence. Sweeping her long, blonde hair over he shoulder, Amber stomps over to where Jo and Sherry stand. 

“What is _she_ doing here?” Amber complains, her nasally voice already grating on Jo’s nerves. 

“Delivering your shit,” Jo bites back, not caring that she’s letting Amber see how reactive she is to her. 

“Oh, guess I should’ve known you were doing slave work,” she taunts with a voice oozing fake sweetness. “You can leave now.” 

Jo bristles at Amber’s words, turning to face the shorter woman and stare down at her. “I’ll leave when I want to,” she hisses. 

“You’re not welcome here, so you should go,” Amber continues. “Go back to doing whatever it is you do to kiss up to Negan.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Jo snarls, getting in Amber’s face. 

“You heard me,” she giggles, dangerously stirring Jo’s irritation. “It’s obvious you’re trying to get his attention. He doesn’t want you.” 

She can’t explain why the woman’s words bother her so much, but Jo finds herself fighting the urge to swing her fists at Amber. Based on her experience, Negan is _very much_ interested in her. She knows she shouldn’t let Amber’s oblivious opinion matter, but she can’t help how much it rubs her the wrong way and she lets her anger get the better of her. 

“Yeah, that’s why he’s been all over me the last few days, right? That’s why I was in his bed the other night?” Jo growls, unintentionally admitting to her brief involvement with Negan. 

She almost regrets the words, but knowing that it’s too late to take them back, she hopes the revelation that she’d been with Negan pisses Amber off. Even if Jo hadn’t officially slept with him, Amber wouldn’t know differently. The tinkling of laughter that bubbles from Amber’s mouth both surprises and enrages Jo. 

“Even if that’s true, it just proves my point,” Amber spits happily. “He fucked you but won’t make you a wife. Because you aren’t good enough. You’re _nothing_.” She pauses only momentarily in her insult when Sherry tries to put a stop to her hateful words. “He used you and tossed you aside like the dirty slut you are.” 

Those words are the final nail in Amber’s coffin and in a flash, Jo has her hands wrapped around the woman’s throat. She lunges all of her weight towards her, knocking Amber to the ground and landing on top of her. Both hands squeeze relentlessly around her skinny neck, her eyes bulging in fear before Jo decides strangling her just isn’t satisfying enough. Drawing one arm back, Jo smashes her fist into Amber’s pointy, rat-like features. The resounding crunch of her nose is music to Jo’s ears. 

Shock registers all over Amber’s face and Jo gives her a second to come to terms with what just happened before she lays into her. She brings her fist back repeatedly, hitting Amber several more times before the squirming woman fights back. Bringing her bony hands up, she tries to block Jo’s assault before instead attempting to defend herself. She reaches up, clawing at Jo’s face with her long nails and leaving several deep scratches in her wake. 

The burning sensation across Jo’s face only fuels her fury as she continues to pummel Amber’s bloody face. Once she feels the warmth of Amber’s blood coating her knuckles, Jo knows she can’t be stopped. Her bloodlust clouds her vision as she viciously attacks the woman pinned beneath her. In the back of her mind, Jo registers several feminine voices yelling; one begging her to stop and another calling out for help. Sherry tries fruitlessly to get a grip on Jo’s pumping arm, but she can’t stop the attack. Before long, a pair of thick, strong arms wrap around Jo’s mid-section, lifting her clear off the floor and yanking her hands away from Amber. 

Jo flails angrily in the arms of whoever has interrupted her satisfying assault, screaming and grunting at the person carrying her out into the hallway. She’s unceremoniously dropped to the ground, stumbling as she tries to get her feet beneath her. Before she can see who had picked her up, the doors behind her slam shut. Not yet finished with kicking Amber’s smug ass, she scratches at the locked doors like a lunatic, slapping her palm against the wood when she can’t get back inside. From behind her comes Simon, a baffled expression on his face. 

“The hell is going on?” he implores as he takes in the sight of Jo’s scratched face and bloody, dripping fist. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill that bitch,” she grinds out, pacing back and forth in front of the door while her entire body vibrates with anger. 

From the other side of the door, she hears the sound of various muffled voices as well as soft sobbing. She knows it’s Amber, likely playing the victim and crying to whoever had come to her rescue. Jo doesn’t care what happens to her after this, she’s going to get to Amber if it’s the last thing she does. When the door in front of her swings open and she sees who’d been in the room, she realizes this might _actually_ be the last thing she does. Simon eases himself down the hallway, not wanting to be in the path of the raging beast headed Jo’s way. 

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?!” Negan thunders, pressing his forearm to her chest as he smashes her body against to wall on the opposite side of the hall. “You better start fuckin’ talking. _Fast_.” 

“Your _wife_ is a conniving, manipulative little bitch,” Jo snarls, pushing against Negan’s arm to get in his face and relieve some of the pressure crushing her ribs. She knows she’s being reckless by standing up to him after she’s just pounded his wife into a bloody mess, but she doesn’t care anymore. 

“Really? So then she’s lying about you attacking her for no reason, huh?” he barks. 

“She fuckin’ provoked me. She got what she deserved,” she asserts, baring her teeth. 

“And how about all my other wives? They lyin’ about what they saw too?” Negan ponders icily. 

“If that’s what they saw, then I guess that’s what happened,” Jo cedes, her wrathful tone letting Negan know that she isn’t wasting her time trying to convince him otherwise. 

Jo glares unflinchingly into Negan’s eyes, challenging him to do something about her acting out. He returns the favor, his fiery golden eyes burning into her. He presses his arm more firmly into her chest, grinding his teeth in anger at her continued defiance. His eyes flit briefly over the trickles of blood dripping down her face and onto the smooth sleeve of his jacket, though he makes no effort to tend to her wounded face. 

“You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here,” he rasps with irritation. “I don’t want anyone here that doesn’t wanna be here, so if this shit is gonna continue, you can just leave now.” 

“Then let me go,” Jo scoffs coldly. She knows Negan’s offer is too good to be true. He’s far too possessive to just let her walk away. The man feels some sort of ownership over his people and he’d never let them go that easily. She’ll be kept around and punished if she ever actually tries to leave, as experience has already proven. 

Negan’s glare intensifies and Jo knows she’s really pushing her luck. It’s bad enough that Negan has had to punish her several times already, but now she’s physically assaulted his wife. Not to mention that she continues to act out with no regard to the respect Negan demands to be shown. 

“Keep fuckin’ mouthing off to me. See where it gets you,” he warns lowly, applying even more pressure to her body. “If you ever lay a single fuckin’ finger on one of my wives again, I will cut your fuckin’ hands off, I swear to God.” 

Jo’s hackles raise at Negan’s words. He really is going to take his wife’s side, not even bothering to let Jo explain what happened. Even if she did, it’s likely he wouldn’t believe her anyway. So much for that microscopic amount of trust she thought they’d developed. She won’t make that mistake again. 

“Get the _fuck_ off of me,” she grunts, no longer caring about what Negan has to say or what threats he decides to hurl her way. 

Finally easing off the girl’s tiny body, Negan takes a step back, though he still towers over her. He regards her for a moment, watching her cough and try to catch her breath while he tries to figure out how to deal with this. Nothing he’s done to punish her so far seems to stick and he’s at a loss with how to handle the unruly girl. He decides to ease up a little and try another approach, thinking that perhaps aggression isn’t the way to go to get through to her. 

“Why the fuck did you hit her, Jo?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Like I said, she’s a fucking bitch,” Jo repeats venomously. 

“That’s not an answer. You can tell me what happened or I can draw my own conclusions and make sure you pay accordingly,” Negan threatens, mentally slapping himself at how quickly he’d returned to anger. 

“She wanted to act all big and run her mouth so I clocked her. I’d do it again too,” she snarks, daring to let her lips spread into a wicked smile. 

Negan balks at her seemingly amused answer, taking her arm in a firm grip to divert all of her attention on him. “What could she possibly have said that warranted you beating her to a bloody pulp?” he growls. 

“She called me a whore and said I wasn’t good enough to be with you,” Jo admits, too annoyed to bother lying to Negan or beating around the bush. 

“Why would she say that?” Negan wonders, already suspecting what the answer will be. 

“Because I told her about us,” she spills, seeing Negan’s slightly exasperated expression. It’s not her fault that the cat is out of the bag. If Negan didn’t want anyone to know about them, he should’ve just stayed away. Thankfully, he doesn’t dwell on the fact that Jo spilled the beans – to his wives of all people. 

“So what? Why do you care what she thinks?” he questions, stepping close to Jo again. “Or are you just mad that she’s right and jealous that she’s with me and you aren’t?” 

The second the words fall from Negan’s lips, Jo is riled right back up. He’s such a fucking asshole. Suddenly disgusted by the feeling of the long fingers wrapped around her forearm, Jo rips her limb from his clutches. Looking him up and down with a scathing glare, she turns to remove herself from the situation. 

“I’m not done talking to you,” Negan calls out after her, only to be completely ignored. “You take one more motherfuckin’ step and you’re gonna regret it.” 

Hearing yet another exhausting threat, Jo whirls on Negan. She stalks aggressively back down the hallway, rapidly encroaching on Negan. Jo slaps him harshly across a stubbled cheek before slamming her palms against Negan’s chest, pushing him backwards as she goes after him. 

“Fuck you, Negan!” she cries, finally fed up with him. “Fuck you and all your fucking empty threats! What the fuck are you gonna do? Nothing!” 

Negan’s eyes cloud with a frightening amount of rage and wrath, though it does nothing to impede Jo’s assault. Knowing that she has nothing left to lose, she continues beating her hands against his chest and screaming every obscenity she can think of. When he gets his hands on her, Negan grips Jo’s wrists with bone-crushing strength and twists her arm painfully behind her back. He uses his grasp on her to pull her against his body, holding her writhing form close enough to lean over and hiss in her ear. 

“ _Bad_ fuckin’ move, sweetheart,” he cautions before turning his attention to the man still standing down the hall. “Simon! Take her to a cell.”


	17. Betray Me

If Jo thought she was pissed before, it paled it comparison to how Negan’s words incite her now. Paying no mind to Simon’s attempts to soothe her, Jo fights him all the way to the basement – kicking, screaming, and spitting mad every step of the way. She knows her fists have clipped his face and several of her kicks landed against his shins, but she is beyond caring at this point. Simon tosses her into the cold and dark cell, slamming the door on her and trapping her inside with nothing but her own outrage and indignation.

Something inside of Jo snaps and she goes wild. She screams at the top of her lungs, letting the sound tear from her throat until her lungs burn. Pressing herself close to the door, she howls as loudly as possible. Maybe her racket will accomplish nothing, but if she can get someone to open this door, she is willing to try anything in her power to do just that. 

The meaningless screaming does nothing to simmer Jo’s brimming anger, so she switches to ranting and raving instead. Gathering every negative feeling she’s buried deep within her, she hurls any insult she can think of, directing every single one of them at Negan. She hopes someone can hear her, even better if Negan somehow finds out about what she’s saying. 

“Let me out of here you lowlife, stupid, piece of shit!” she screeches. “Come down here and face me like a man, you fucking pussy! I’ll fucking _kill_ you!” 

Jo carries on obnoxiously for several long minutes until she runs out of vocabulary and creative threats and barbs to spew. She pants loudly, her teeth grinding and hands still shaking. She’d set her mind to making herself a total nuisance and she’s going to follow through until she gets a reaction or until she’s too worn out to carry on. 

Deciding to try another tactic, she begins making a different kind of racket. Jo smashes her palms against the steel door, a hollow and metallic banging echoing through the room. She’s sure the noise is louder in the cell than it is outside, but that doesn’t stop her. Eventually, she switches to punching, slamming her already sore fists against the cold surface until her hands go numb. 

Feeling her wrath beginning to swirl again, Jo joins her feet in on the tumult, lifting them to kick powerfully into the bottom of the door. She knows she’s behaving out of control, but Jo feels like a feral animal – caught in a trap and so desperate for escape that she’d be willing to chew her own limbs off for freedom. 

Jo stirs up a relentless, uproarious fuss until her throat is so raw and her vocal cords so strained that she can’t make another sound. Looking down, she sees her knuckles spilling blood and already starting to bruise. Even her feet are killing her. Realizing that her efforts have gotten her nowhere, she feels exhausted, disappointed, and defeated. Too wound up to sit or sleep, she paces the perimeter of the tiny room, the short distance she can travel only serves to aggravate her further. 

Finally resigning herself to her confinement, Jo settles into the corner, crouching down before slipping all the way to the ground. Dragging her palms over her sweaty face, she breathes out sharply. Fuck Negan. Fuck him for doing this to her. _Again_. For the second time, she’s been tossed in a tiny room like a sack of trash and left alone to rot. This time she wonders whether she’ll ever make it out or if Negan will finally let her die in here. He had promised to do it several times before, so why not. 

Fucking Negan. Jo can’t believe that he would put her back in a cell. She feels betrayed and almost hurt that he’d do that to her after her past experience with being in here. Not that Negan gives a shit about anyone other than himself. She can see that now. She never should have trusted him or been naïve enough to believe that he would have enough humanity in him to find a different way to punish her. So be it. If he wants to treat her like an animal, she will act like one. 

Hours pass before Jo realizes how cold it is in the room. Much like her first stay in the cells, Jo finds the temperature of the room uncomfortable. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocks back and forth, hoping to create some heat. On top of that, her stomach won’t stop growling. The slow-ticking minutes blur into hours, maybe even days; Jo really isn’t sure anymore. Every part of this experience is reminding her of the horrendous start she’d had at the Sanctuary and she hates it. Almost as much as she hates Negan. 

Just before Jo can return to stewing in her feelings towards the man, she hears footsteps stomping down the hall. Immediately jumping to her feet, she positions herself near the door; ready to jump the second it swings open, ready to claw out the eyes of whoever is unfortunate enough to be standing on the other side. 

However, she isn’t prepared for what she sees when the door does open. She takes one long stride to pounce on the man before her, but stops when she sees the barbed wire-wrapped bat he wields. Barely managing to prevent herself from smashing right into Negan, Jo wobbles on her feet, staring angrily up at Negan. He swings the bat off his shoulder and lowers it so it hovers inches from Jo’s face, though she doesn’t flinch. 

“You do _not_ fuckin’ scare easily. I like that,” he drawls, clearly long over his previous ire. “I think you and I need to have a little chat. We need to understand one another.” 

Jo hates Negan’s smug and airy tone. It takes everything in her not to cock her fist and punch him right in the throat. With an incredible show of restraint, she merely remains rooted to the spot. Even when Negan steps into the cell in front of her, she doesn’t move. He sees this and smiles condescendingly down at her before pushing her shoulders and shoving her back into the room. 

“ _Don’t_ fucking touch me,” Jo snarls, slapping Negan’s hand away from her. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” Negan warns, taking brief notice of her bruised and bloodied knuckles. “All that cursin’ and attitude is gonna get you in trouble.” 

“Fuck you,” she retorts, making no effort to heed Negan’s repetitive cautioning. 

As expected, Negan reacts violently, pushing Jo up against the wall. She’s had enough of Negan constantly slamming her into walls and tries to push him away. Her feeble attempts are no match for his strength and he pins her to the cinder block wall with a firm grip on her jaw. 

“You are just askin’ for me to fuck that attitude out of you,” he hisses coldly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how wet you got for me last time, sweetheart. You piss me off, but god _damn_ if it doesn’t get me harder than steel. Plus, I don’t think I’m done punishing you for what you did to my wife.” 

Jo whimpers at his words, already feeling her body betray her. Her cheeks flush hotly and warmth gathers in her core no matter how hard she tries to fight the reaction. Negan yanks Jo’s head towards him, forcing her to meet his eyes. She squirms, wanting to escape his painful grasp and subtly trying to create some friction between her thighs. 

“Get on your knees,” Negan demands with a whisper. “Show me how sorry you are…I wanna see what a good girl you can be.” 

“You’re a pig," Jo mutters shakily, still trying to fend off her own desires. 

"We’ll see if you still feel that way when I’m buried balls deep in that tight little pussy and you’re cumming like a fire hydrant around my dick,” Negan counters cockily as he pushes Jo to the ground. 

She gives in easily after that, her arousal ignited by Negan’s filthy words. He watches her intently as her jittery hands reach out to unbuckle his belt. Negan unzips his jacket and tosses it to the filthy floor as Jo reaches a small hand into his pants. He releases a quick breath when she pulls his already throbbing length out. The entranced and innocent look gracing Jo’s delicate features nearly makes him blow his load on her face right then and there. She pauses then, flitting her eyes around nervously and clearly warring with herself over the situation she’s been forced into. 

Negan sees the dubiousness in Jo’s expression and places a gentle hand under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. Not wanting to rush her into anything, he cups her cheek and runs his thumb across her lower lip before pulling her back up to her feet. Even with his pulse pounding in his ears and the heady lust crackling between them, Negan can see Jo’s uncertainty is written all over her face. While the arousal in her eyes is obvious, there’s an underlying hesitation in her actions. This isn’t how he wants her. 

He takes a step back mentally, feeling vaguely remorseful over his brief loss of control. He struggles to compose himself, reigning in his need and begrudgingly shoving himself back into his pants. Disgusted with himself and his behavior, Negan’s demeanor softens immediately, taking pity on the wide-eyed girl in front of him. 

“Look at me,” he urges, waiting for her eyes to meet his before he continues. “I know you’re not happy here, but you _have_ to make it work. You don’t have a fuckin’ choice. I don’t wanna punish you, Jo, but I can’t keep letting you get away with this shit. You gotta follow the rules.” 

Jo nods her head minutely, letting Negan know she understands. All she wants is to do her job and be left alone, why should she be blamed because someone else had caused an issue? Jo’s anger and violence had taken so much out of her, she doesn’t even have the strength to fight Negan anymore. 

“And no more going Karate Kid on my wives, okay?” Negan taunts with an edge of humor. 

Jo can’t stop the tiny smirk that curls her lips. Before Negan thinks that Jo has forgiven him, she schools her visage into a blank expression. With her best interest in mind, Jo makes a simple request of Negan. 

“I want my old job back,” she states blandly. 

“I thought you hated working in the kitchen,” Negan questions. 

“I did…I _do_ , but I can’t keep working where I am now,” she counters honestly. “I can’t be around you anymore, Negan. You fuck with my head and distract me from my job. Now I’m fighting women I don’t even give a shit about because of you.” 

“Because of _me_?” he wonders, his tone affronted. 

“Don’t pretend you’re innocent in this. You knew what you were doing when you made that comment in front of Amber the other day,” Jo accuses with a hiss. “She wouldn’t have come at me like that if you didn’t instigate to two of us.” 

Negan shrugs slightly, neither confirming nor denying his involvement with the incident. He shakes his head, dismissing Jo’s request. “It’s not gonna happen.” 

“Negan, you’re a huge fucking distraction and you know it. It’s a risk for my safety and the safety of everyone else on the runs,” she argues. 

“No,” he barks, cutting Jo off before she has a chance to complain. “Keep your job. You’re good at it. I’ll leave you alone.” 

Jo raises her eyebrows skeptically, not trusting Negan’s words. It’s in his nature to act the way he does around women. There’s no way he’s just going to stop because Jo is annoyed by him. Even if he tones it down a notch, the mere presence of him is going to be an issue for Jo. She’s better off going back to her old job and making things easier for everyone. She’d rather suffer doing something boring than have to deal with Negan and all the shit that comes with being around him. 

“You can’t really expect me to believe you,” she states. 

“You have my word,” Negan assures her. “Sleep on it. Think it over and get back to me in the morning. You can have your old job back if you really want it, but it’s your own fault if you just end up miserable again.” 

With that, he steps aside, clearing the path to the door. Giving a tilt of his head and a sweep of his long arm, he releases Jo. Not risking the chance of him changing his mind, Jo immediately takes off, nearly running out of the cell and back to her room. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

It had taken a lot of mental battling and swallowing quite a bit of pride for Jo to make her decision. As much as she wanted to stand up to Negan and distance herself, she liked her job too much. She is too skilled to stoop to being a kitchen worker again; she has far too much potential for that. So she’d made a deal. As long as Negan kept his promise and let her do her job in peace, she would stay. If he overstepped his bounds, he agreed to let her go back to work in the kitchen. 

At first Jo felt weak for not sticking to her guns and getting away from Negan, but that feeling was soon shoved aside by her slightly inflated ego. She’s being the bigger person and handling her issue like an adult by keeping her job. Damned if she’d let Negan or his catty wife chase her away from the one meaningful and productive thing she has going for her here. 

She’s even managed to move past the disdain she felt towards Negan for locking her in the cell, accepting that – in a way, it was a punishment she deserved. Not wanting a repeat of any of her past punishments, Jo has been marginally more respectful, keeping herself in line and not going out of her way to piss Negan off. Negan seems more than pleased with her decision and something about his subtle approval fills Jo with an inkling of satisfaction and self-importance. 

“Get the fuck to work,” Negan calls out to his Saviors. 

He spares only a mere glance in Jo’s direction, purposely making a show of his apparent disinterest in her. She isn’t offended by his chilly disposition, but rather grateful that he’s kept his word to her thus far. With a tiny smile twisting her lips, she gets to work, working side by side with Simon to gather supplies from the community they’re visiting today. 

Among the slim pickings the group has to offer to the Saviors, Jo and Simon come across something rather odd. Down in the dank, musty basement of one of the buildings located within the tiny town, they find a casket. The shell is a shiny, light silver color, though it’s reflective quality remains mostly hidden beneath a thick layer of dust and grime. 

“That’s interesting,” Simon slurs unenthusiastically. 

“We should take it. Maybe Negan can use it as some sort of torture device,” Jo snickers lowly, not noticing the approaching footsteps behind her. 

“Don’t give me any ideas,” Negan grunts as he joins her and Simon in the room. “We’re gonna take it.” 

“Seriously?” Jo blurts, whipping around to face Negan. She has no idea what the hell Negan could _possibly_ use a coffin for, but knowing him, it’s bound to be something ridiculously weird. 

“Oh yeah, _Joey_ ,” Negan retorts, grinning at the way Jo cringes at his spontaneous nickname. “I’m gonna make good use of it. Gotta send some messages and this might come in handy.” 

“What the hell kind of message are you planning to send with a _casket_?” Jo wonders in disbelief. 

“I have something Alexandria is gonna want returned to them,” he states calmly. “They can have it back, but they need to know it comes with a price.”


	18. Rising Storm

When Negan said he wanted to send a message, this is the _last_ thing Jo pictured. Standing beside Negan next to a flatbed truck, Jo listens to his plan once more. They are going to show up to Alexandria with the casket and let them think that their friend has been killed – a logical conclusion considering the way she’d infiltrated the Sanctuary and killed so many people. Little do they know, she will be alive and well inside.

“So what’s the message, exactly?” Jo ponders aloud, scrunching her face at Negan’s need for a dramatic and theatrical entrance. 

“That I’m a reasonable guy,” Negan drawls animatedly. “Their girl came in guns a-blazin’ and killed my men, but did I hurt a single hair on her pretty little head? No. I most certainly did _not_. I want these people to understand that they can work with us. All I want is a little cooperation.” 

Jo rolls her eyes at Negan’s solidified belief that he _is_ in fact reasonable. He’s ridiculous, over-the-top, and insane, but who is she to burst his delusional little bubble? Looking over to the woman waiting near the truck, Jo can see that she’s less than thrilled with the plan. She’s probably relieved to be going home unharmed, but it’s a small consolation for having not killed Negan like she intended to. Jo’s eyes fall on a tall man in a long black coat, one she doesn’t recognize. 

“Who’s this?” she mutters to Negan, nudging her head in the direction of the stranger. 

“Eugene. Picked him up on our last visit to Alexandria,” Negan responds before addressing the man. “Doctor Smarty Pants! Come introduce yourself.” 

He approaches timidly, glancing around before meeting Jo’s eyes. “H-hello, ma'am, I’m Eugene,” he stutters, stumbling over his words with a shaky voice. 

“Jo,” she offers shortly, extending her hand for him to shake. 

“Eugene here tried to kill me,” Negan whispers to Jo, bent sideways as if he’s sharing some sordid secret, his cocky grin seeping into his hushed words. “Well, maybe not directly, but he certainly played a part, didn’t you, Doctor Smarty Pants?” 

She wonders what Negan means by that. If someone tried to kill him, she imagines he’d retaliate and return the favor by taking them out. Yet somehow Eugene had ended up here, among the Saviors. 

“M-my sincerest apologies, sir,” Eugene fumbles awkwardly before Negan dismisses him and directs Jo to follow him over to where the somewhat familiar woman stands with her arms crossed over her chest. 

She had busted through the gates and single-handedly taken out a group of Negan’s men, yet here she is looking worried about being returned to her people. He introduces her to Jo, identifying the young woman as Sasha. The three of them climb onto the wide bed of the truck parked nearby, glancing at the looming coffin tied securely in place. Negan goes over the plan one last time, filling Sasha in on what’s expected of her. Sasha looks on uncomfortably for a moment before pacing towards the casket. 

“Jesus, you don’t have to take the trip in the… _thing_ ,” Negan offers, concern lacing his words. 

“I could use the rest,” Sasha counters bravely. 

“No shit?” he responds, almost sounding impressed with her. 

“Yeah, just wanna go to sleep,” she assures him. “Just need a bottle of water and I’m fine.” 

Negan accepts her request, figuring it’s the least he can do for the woman. He sighs heavily before moving closer to Sasha, getting her attention as he begins reassuring her. 

“Listen, I know how tough this is,” Negan murmurs lowly. “And I appreciate it.” 

Upon hearing Negan’s softly spoken words, Jo feels a tightness in her chest. Negan knows Sasha is upset and maybe even scared, so he’d taken the time to assure her that she’s going to be fine. _Maybe the cold and aloof man really does have a heart after all_. Jo feels her ever-growing respect for him expand even further. She quickly jumps down off the truck before she does something stupid like hug him or get all teary-eyed. Turning over her shoulder, she sees Sasha situating herself inside the claustrophobic box; Negan speaking words she can’t hear before slamming the lid shut and closing the girl inside. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

The gates to Alexandria remain firmly shut and with the number of people lining the tall walls, it’s obvious the Saviors’ presence here is most unwelcome. Their trucks pull up outside the gates, the crunching of gravel and rumbling engines coming to a halt as they all climb out. Jo hangs back in a small gathering of Saviors, not wanting to be seen by anyone inside the community. Negan moves to the forefront of the group right away, gazing up at the group’s leader perched atop the wall. 

“You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn’t know shit, and got everyone that he gave a shit about killed?” Negan begins with a grin before pointing at the bearded man. “It’s about you.” 

A silence falls upon both sides of the gate, anticipation weighing heavily in the air. Every person within earshot awaits Negan’s next words. He has a gift for capturing everyone’s attention and delivering a captivating and dramatic performance. This time is no exception. 

“Y'all are gonna wanna put your guns down now,” Negan demands flatly. 

“No one drops anything,” Rick counters. 

“You push me…and you push me…and you _push_ me, Rick!” Negan announces, his voice taking on a more angry edge as he loses his patience with the defiant community. “You just tried to blow us up, right?” 

Negan launches into a long-winded speech, conveying his displeasure with Rick’s refusal to bow down to him and follow the rules. He makes it clear just how disappointed he is in them, practically scolding them for their behavior. Jo smiles to herself when Negan calls them animals, his observation playing into the message he wants to send – the Saviors aren’t the bad guys, they don’t want to punish anyone unless they have a reason to. Directing Dwight and Simon to move the casket into an upright position, Negan climbs up onto the truck beside it. 

“Sash! You’re not gonna believe this crap,” Negan hollers, tapping the end of Lucille against the outside of the casket. 

Sparing a sidelong glance at Rick, Negan pops the casket open. He swings the lid open widely, ready to prove what a _reasonable_ guy he is. Before Negan can continue his animated monologue, a familiar and disturbing sound rattles in Jo’s ears. It takes her a moment to pinpoint the location of the noise, and when she does, a hot wave of panic rushes through her body. 

“Holy goddamn!” Negan yells as Sasha’s reanimated corpse lunges at him. Her hands reach out to grab him and he takes a step back, clearly forgetting where he’s standing as he tumbles right off the edge of the flatbed truck. 

Jo springs into action immediately, seeing Sasha’s body land on top of Negan’s in the tumble. In an instant, the sound of rapid gunfire rips through the air and Jo knows they’re in trouble. Their plan got fucked up and the Alexandrians are fighting back in revenge for their fallen friend. She pumps her legs as she sprints towards her leader, running past several frozen Saviors who haven’t quite registered what’s happening. 

The sound of Negan’s panicked yells and struggling grunts spur her on. Skidding through the gravel, Jo rounds the truck and sets eyes on Negan where he lies on the ground. His arms are extended, braced against Sasha’s body as he fights to keep her from ripping out his throat. 

Spotting his discarded bat on the ground, she snatches the heavy wooden weapon up. With one last burst of energy, Jo slams full force into Sasha, knocking the snarling girl away from Negan as she tackles her to the ground. She rolls as quickly as possible, getting to her feet and backing away from Sasha. In a split second, she whispers an apology and swings Negan’s bat with all her strength, smashing the girl’s head like a rotten pumpkin. Thick, congealed blood splatters everywhere, spraying both Jo and the surrounding grass as Sasha falls to the ground in a motionless heap. 

Negan remains on the ground, either too shocked or too injured to move. Seeing the pained expression on his face, Jo worries that it’s the latter. She trots back over to him, offering a hand to help yank him up off the ground. Throwing his arm over Jo’s shoulder, he braces his weight on her petite form as he limps slightly beside her. They obscure themselves behind the bumper of one of the cargo trucks, taking cover from the shower of bullets raining down around them. 

“Plan B it is!” Negan calls over the thunderous gunshots. 

Across the patch of grass, Jo spots a rifle laying in the grass and knows she has to get to it. Without a single word to Negan, she waits until the echoing gunfire ceases for a moment and she’s in the clear before stepping away from the truck and running for the abandoned weapon. She ignores the sound of Negan’s scathing voice calling after her, diving into the grass the moment she’s within reach of the gun. 

A spray of bullets rips up the ground around her and Jo makes a run for it, sprinting along the perimeter fence before finding an area she can easily scale. Going inside Alexandria isn’t something Jo wants to do, but staying in the open isn’t an option and if she runs away, she’ll easily be spotted by one of the people atop the tall walls of the community. Her only choice is to find safety within the walls and hide among the enemy. 

Yanking herself up a portion of chain-link fence, Jo struggles to heave her body over the top and down into the grass on the other side. In the distance, she can hear the sound of the main gate creaking open as well as several trucks speeding down the main street of the neighborhood. She doesn’t know why the Saviors are still invading with everyone revolting and fighting back with heavy artillery. Do they want to kill the Alexandrians so badly that they’re willing to risk their own lives? 

Realizing that it’s all out war, Jo decides she needs to find a place to hide _now_. Gunshots ring out all around her as she runs through the backyards of several houses. Occasionally she passes people with guns who recognize her as one of Negan’s, taking aim at her until she fires her weapon at them and takes them out before they can kill her. For a brief moment, her thoughts flit to Negan and she wonders if he’s making out better than she is. Maybe he’d taken one of the trucks and run. If he’s smart, that’s exactly what he would’ve done; they’re way outnumbered here. 

With her back braced against the tire of a rusty car, Jo slides open the magazine of her automatic rifle. She groans aloud when she sees she has almost no ammunition left. Nearby she hears the roaring engine of a truck and she considers the risk of running out into the open to get to it. Before she can make her decision, a strong hand latches onto her elbow, causing her to whip around and lift her gun, ready to kill the person attached to it. 

“Run!” Negan demands, hauling Jo to her feet and practically dragging her body towards the idling truck nearby. She has no idea how he got inside or how he found her, but she’s thanking her lucky stars that he had. 

Negan lifts Jo like she weighs nothing, tossing her like a ragdoll into the cab of the truck. Slipping and sliding clumsily across the seat, her body slams right into Simon behind the wheel. From over her shoulder, she sees Negan climb into the truck, immediately telling Simon to hit the gas and get them out of there. The tires of the truck screech and smoke as Simon speeds back towards the gates and Negan flings an arm out the window, flipping off the people they leave behind as they flee to safety. 

Jo pulls herself into a seated position, glancing in the side-view mirror and breathing a sigh of relief when she sees the line of trucks following behind them. At least some of the Saviors had gotten out alive and they hadn’t just left their fellow soldiers behind. She flops back against the seat, trying to gather her thoughts as the wind whips through the open windows. 

Both Negan and Simon sit on either side of her, silent as the grave. No one seems brave enough to break the silence and acknowledge what a royal fuck up their visit to Alexandria has been. She can feel the angry tension rolling off Negan in waves, everything in his clenched posture indicating he’s in no mood to deal with anyone or anything right now. 

When the truck pulls up in front of the Sanctuary, Negan grabs Jo’s arm straightaway, dragging her wordlessly into the building. She trips over her own feet as she tries to keep up with him. Negan seems pissed and she wonders what she’s done to set him off this time. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to end well; not with the aggressive and careless way he stomps down the hallway with her in tow. 

Jo is surprised when she recognizes their destination, even more so when she realizes they’re headed for Negan’s room rather than hers like she’d originally assumed. He swings the door open and promptly slams it before using his painful grip on Jo’s wrist to crush her firmly against the door. Air escapes her lungs in a rushed whoosh as he back slams into the hard surface and Negan looms over her. Seeing the heat in Negan’s eyes, she realizes his gaze isn’t angry, but rather swimming with lust. 

“You saved my fuckin’ life out there,” Negan grunts deeply, teeth clenched with a raspy snarl. 

Before Jo can respond to his unexpected declaration, Negan is mashing his mouth into hers, kissing her passionately. His hands come up to brace on either of her cheeks, holding her head still while he attacks her lips. She gives in to his heated attack, parting her lips to accept his prodding tongue in the warm recesses of her mouth. Negan pulls away, his panting breaths sweeping over Jo’s face as he waits for the shock on her face to fade. 

Her gaze lifts to meet his, her pupils so blown out that her eyes are nearly all black. Negan takes that as a good sign and leans forward to continue his assault on Jo’s already swollen mouth. He plunges his tongue between her lips once more, swallowing every heated moan that vibrates through her. Jo kisses him back with equal vehemence, wrapping one arm around the back of his neck and threading her nimble fingers through his thick, graying hair. 

Pushing more firmly against her body, Negan grinds his hardness into her thigh. Jo’s eyes are already starting to roll with the minimal contact and Negan knows there’s no turning back. He’s going to take her, fuck her until she’s writhing under him and screaming for release. It’s clear she wants this just as much as he does. Full of adrenaline and a need to show his gratitude in the only way he knows how, Negan doesn’t pull any punches. 

“Tell me you want this,” he pants, needing to hear her consent. “Say the word and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember how it feels not to be full of my dick.” 

“Yes,” Jo nearly sobs, deciding she’s finally ready for whatever he wants to give her. “Please, Negan.” 

Hearing her desperation, Negan reacts almost violently. His hands grab the collar of her t-shirt and wrench outward, easily tearing the thin cotton right down the middle. Jo’s lust-laced gasp of shock spurs him on and he wedges a hand behind her back to pop open her bra and tear it from her body. Wrapping his arms around her slim waist, Negan lifts Jo up and instantly takes a hardened nipple into his mouth. Jo cries out loudly when he sucks harshly, marking her skin before pressing his teeth into the sensitive flesh. 

Jo threads her long legs around Negan’s hips, not able to help the wanton way she swivels and grinds against the hard line of his cock through the rough material of his pants. The deep, raspy moan that her movements pull from Negan’s throat causes heat to pool low in her core. They’re both desperate and writhing, clawing at one another’s clothes in a race to bare each other. 

Negan drops Jo to the ground, interrupting her fight with his various belts as he removes both his jacket and pants for her. Now clad only in a black t-shirt and a thin pair of boxers that do nothing to hide his massive erection, he closes in on Jo. Shoving his thumbs into the waistband of her cargo pants, he shucks them down her legs, dragging her panties along with them. She quickly kicks her shoes off as Negan crouches down to help her pull her feet free from her shedding garments. With incredible speed and strength, Negan grabs Jo and flings her nude body over his shoulder, enjoying the startled scream that leaves her lips. 

He tosses her tiny body onto his bed, watching how her pert breasts bounce as she lands in the center of the silken sheets. Growling dangerously, Negan moves in on Jo like a predator, crawling over top of her and pressing the weight of his body into hers. Her smooth thighs bracket his waist and when Jo lifts her hips to grind her core against his thigh, Negan damn near loses his mind. Using his hand to slam her hips to the mattress, Negan holds her down while his other hands slips between her thighs. 

“You’re already fuckin’ dripping for me, baby,” he sneers with satisfaction, eyes not leaving her flushed face as he watches her react to his touch. 

Jo can’t find the words to respond when Negan slides two thick fingers into her body. Still unaccustomed to the intrusive feeling, Jo squirms frantically not sure if she’s trying to escape his fingers or get closer to them. Negan pumps his hand with slow, sure movements, occasionally sweeping his thumb across Jo’s sensitive clit. Before long, she’s undulating desperately beneath him, soaking his fingers and scratching against his muscular forearm. 

Negan leans over her, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the length of her throat and leaving a thin trail of saliva on her skin. The panting breaths slipping past Negan’s parted lips blow over Jo’s heated skin, the warm air coming out in a puff as he chuckles at the high-pitched squeal she lets out when he presses roughly against her clit. 

“Let it go,” Negan prompts, doubling his efforts and pumping his hand harder in and out of Jo’s clenching channel.”Cum all over my fingers, baby.” 

“Fuck!” she screams as every muscle within her clenches and an intense orgasm sweeps over her body. 

“Such a filthy mouth,” Negan whispers snarkily. “Lets see what else I can get you to scream.” 

The predatory grin on Negan’s face sets Jo’s blood on fire as he wedges himself between her parted, damp thighs. He captures her lips in another scorching kiss, moving away to nip lightly at her sharp jaw. Jo tosses her head from side to side, barely able to contain the blazing sparks shooting through her body. She drags her fingertips down Negan’s firm chest and across his toned abs, taking in every inch of his perfect body while he hovers over her. 

She runs her fingers softly over the collection of fading tattoos she finds inked into his tan skin, having never paid enough attention to notice them before. When Negan grips Jo’s hips and pulls her closer to his own pelvis, the reality of the situation hits her and she starts to panic. He nestles her ass over top of his thighs and spreads her legs, opening her up to him. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Negan soothes, immediately noting her renewed nervousness. “We’ll go slow. I’ll only give you what you can handle.” 

Jo relaxes noticeably, thankful for Negan’s gentle voice and concern for her inexperience and apprehension. He braces himself on his elbows above her, brushing her messy hair away from her face. Using his other hand, he lifts Jo’s hips higher, tilting her pelvis towards him. The hot, hard length of his cock sits heavily atop her smooth mound as Negan waits for her to let him know he can continue. 

With an almost imperceptible nod from her, Negan moves, grinding his hips and slicking his swollen dick through her dripping slit. Jo’s breathing hitches and she clings tightly to Negan’s tensed, sinewy arms, giving another nod. Reaching down he wraps a hand around his cock, pressing the seeping head of it to Jo’s tight entrance. Negan shows incredible restraint, clenching his teeth as he gradually eases himself deeper into her body, inch by agonizing inch. 

A tiny groan spills from Jo’s parted lips and she squirms for a moment at the stinging sensation and uncomfortable full feeling. Much to her relief, the unpleasantness of it passes quickly as Negan pushes himself all the way into her, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock brushing against her. Jo takes a second to appreciate the strangely satisfying feeling of being stuffed to the brim, enjoying the unfamiliar pressure of Negan stretching her to her absolute limits. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ tight,” Negan grates, leaning his sweaty forehead on Jo’s while his entire body shakes with the constraint he’s showing. “You good, sweetheart?” 

“Please move,” Jo whimpers, unable to stand the feeling of Negan merely throbbing inside her. 

The dark look and accompanying growl that Jo’s request is met with gives her a sense of power. She alone had reduced this formidable man to a quaking, needy mess. That sense of control goes straight to her head, gracing her with renewed confidence and bravery. Utilizing her new found boldness, she squeezes her walls tightly around Negan and cants her hips along his length. The brief stimulation sets him off and he positions himself on his knees, using both hands to control Jo’s hips with bruising force. 

“Easy, girl. You’re gonna make me shoot off like a damn teenager if you keep doing that,” Negan warns. 

With his forceful grip on the girl’s trim hips, he limits her movements. He holds her still, instead taking control as he thrusts slow, deep, and smooth. Not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her, he keeps his pace subdued. Negan watches every tiny twitch and nuance in her expression, paying close attention to her reactions to the steady driving of his hips. 

“Faster,” Jo whispers, making Negan smile widely at her soft but bossy voice. 

Wasting no time, he obeys her requests, increasing the speed with which he shoves his thick cock into her sodden core. Jo reacts immediately, calling out as her eyes roll backwards and her jaw pops open. Negan revels in the young girl’s euphoric reaction, taking it upon himself to fuck her even faster. His renewed pace sends Jo into a heated frenzy, pushing her into a lustful haze. 

“Harder…sir,” she calls out, barely recognizing the demure sound of her own voice, let alone the goading title she’d tossed out. 

Negan pauses for only a second, registering the word she’d moaned in her lust-drunken state. He reacts explosively, instantly pounding Jo’s supple, taut body into the mattress. His eyes zero in on her breasts and the tantalizing way they bounce with each brutal thrusts of his strong hips. 

“I’m gonna have you creaming all over my cock in no time, baby,” Negan promises with a sharp hiss. 

A raucous scream tears from Jo’s throat, her head thrown back in pleasure as Negan pummels her body. Negan’s calm disappears in a flash and his primal instinct to dominate the wriggling, pleading girl beneath him takes over. Gripping her jaw with firm pressure, he directs her eyes to him, keeping up his punishing thrusts and encouraging her heady vocalizations. 

“Let everyone in this fuckin’ place know how good I’m makin’ you feel,” he slurs. “I’m gonna fuckin’ _ruin_ you.” 

“Oh my god, oh fuck!” Jo screams, not caring that people probably _could_ hear her. “Negan, yes! Fuck me!” 

“Tell me how good my huge fuckin’ cock feels inside you, Jo,” he prods darkly, the command spit through his tightly clenched teeth. 

“ _Ohhh_ ,” she groans, trying to get her brain to work through the cloud of ecstasy blurring her thoughts. “You feel…so good… _Negan_!” she screeches when he slides his thumb between his lips and uses the lubrication of his saliva to slick his viciously swirling finger over he swollen clit. 

“That’s it…good girl,” he praises throatily when Jo lifts her hips, meeting Negan’s every thrust. 

With only a few more pumps of his pulsing length, Negan has Jo climaxing around him, soaking his dick with her cum as she chants his name over and over. Her orgasm spurs his own and he holds her body close to his, thrusting so savagely that it sends her body sliding up the mattress. Before long, Negan tenses, his lithe form jerking powerfully as he loses his rhythm and empties himself deep inside Jo. A satisfied grunt claws it’s way from his mouth as he swivels his hips leisurely, pumping rope after rope of cum into her body, claiming and marking Jo as his. 

Tipping to the side, Negan lays his sweat-soaked body beside Jo. His fingers trail across the silky smooth skin of her abdomen as he watches her try to recover from their vigorous fucking. When Jo gathers herself, she turns to Negan with a dazed look in her eyes, her hair a tangled mess, and a goofy grin across her pretty pink lips. He chuckles deeply, patting himself on the back for having clearly fucked the poor girl silly. 

“Guess your first time is pretty good when you end up looking like you just walked out of the loony bin, huh?” Negan smirks, digging his fingers into Jo’s side and laughing deeply when she screams and wiggles away. 

Jo’s quick movements cause the combined fluids of their coupling to seep from her body and drip down her thighs to the sheets below, something Negan notices immediately. His nostrils flare and he feels himself start to harden again. He prides himself in his insatiable sexual appetite and impressive stamina, but this is a record even for him. 

Sliding himself back between Jo’s slick thighs, Negan aligns himself with her oozing slit, sweeping his cockhead through the thick, creamy moisture coating her folds. Jo opens her mouth to protest, but the added lubrication allows Negan to slide back into her exhausted body before she has a chance to ask what he’s doing. 

“I want you to be so sore tomorrow that every step you take reminds you how good I felt inside you, splitting you open,” Negan rasps into her ear, thrusting roughly into her compliant body as his teeth clasp over her earlobe. 

Jo whimpers needfully, relaxing into the mattress and letting Negan have his way with her. Before long, he has her begging desperately as she chases her release. She quivers around his cock, basking in the aftermath of her orgasm as Negan fulfills his promise to leave her in a boneless, tender heap.


	19. My Last Mistake

After using Jo’s destroyed t-shirt to wipe the mess of combined cum from their bodies, Negan had tossed his own t-shirt to Jo before promptly drifting into a deep sleep beside her. It’s no secret that Negan never let his wives spend the night, always sending them away like prostitutes and hookers once he was finished with them.

With that knowledge in mind, Jo felt strange being in his bed while he slept. She had waited until the soft snores emanating from the man behind her grew deeper and let her know that he was definitely asleep before slipping out of his room and tip-toeing back to her own. She’d curled up in her bed and quickly fallen asleep until the next morning. 

Waking up to see that she has overslept, Jo hops out of bed and swiftly strips Negan’s borrowed black shirt off of her body. The movement sends shots of pain through her body and she groans at the feeling of her uncomfortably tight muscles. Negan had more than lived up to his promise of leaving her sore and Jo finds herself wishing she could skip work altogether and take a long, hot shower to ease her pain. 

Down the hall, Negan forces his bleary eyes to focus on the empty bed beside him. Registering the absence of Jo, a vague knot tightens in his chest. For a moment, a foreign wave of worry crosses his mind as he wonders where Jo is. Though Negan has been strict with keeping his wives’ relationships unattached, he struggles to deny the connection he feels with Jo. 

Determined not to involve any sort of feelings in their new arrangement, he convinces himself that what he’s experiencing is merely a desire to own and protect the young, vulnerable girl – she is _his_ now and he’s going to make sure she understands what that entails. In a quest to locate his escaped bedmate, Negan throws his legs over the edge of the bed and hastily grabs a clean set of clothes to pull on before gliding out of his room. 

As Jo is bent over gathering a loose-fitting outfit for the day, the door behind her swings open. Without turning around, she already knows it’s Negan – he’s the only one with such complete disregard for privacy that he’d barge into her room like this. Remembering that she’s stark naked, she hastily picks up the discarded shirt from the floor, holding it as a meager shield to cover her bare body. 

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before, baby,” Negan smirks cockily, slowly pacing across the room towards Jo. 

She has a pretty good idea why he’s here and the smug look on his face paired with his accompanying words confirms Jo’s suspicions. 

“Now, normally I don’t let any of the wives stay the night, so waking up to an empty bed didn’t bother me. However, seems to me you snuck out without so much as a goodbye or even a thank you for all those mind-blowing orgasms. A little rude, don’t you think? I hope I won’t need to keep reminding you who you belong to. You’re mine now and that means I need to know your whereabouts at all times, doll.” 

Jo backs herself against the dresser behind her, trying to move away from Negan as he stalks over to her, unsure if he’s upset with her or just playfully making his point. She can see the lust in his eyes and knows she needs to stop him before he gets any closer. As much as she enjoyed herself last night, she’s having some regrets this morning. 

Merely having her boss flirt with her had already caused her enough problems, sleeping with him probably wasn’t her most logical decision. Not to mention the fact that they’d been so caught up in each other that they hadn’t used any protection. The possibility of Negan knocking Jo up is more than enough to sober her up and make her come to her senses. Last night _has_ to be a one-time thing. 

“Negan…um, we can’t do this…we shouldn’t,” Jo stutters, hating how weak and fragile her voice sounds. Reinforcing her constitution, she steels her spine and hardens her voice to let Negan know she’s serious. “It has to stop. Last night was a mistake.” 

Negan’s smug and slimy grin quickly melts off his face, making way for a more serious expression. His lips press into a firm line and his thick, dark brows crease over his golden eyes. Jo can see the heat in his stare gradually turn to ice and she swallows nervously as she waits for his reaction. He has to see that she’s right, there’s no way they can have this kind of relationship. He _can’t_ be angry with her. 

“Fine. If that’s what you want,” Negan agrees steadfastly though his voice is glacial. “We got a run in 15, I’ll see you outside. _Don’t_ make me wait.” 

Jo cringes under the scrutinizing gaze Negan levels on her, his eyes pausing on the sliver of bruised skin he can see at her hip. She doesn’t move a muscle, only waits for him to say something else. When he doesn’t and instead turns to stomp grumpily out of her room, she relaxes and releases a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. 

Glad to have that confrontation over with, Jo resumes preparing for her day. She dresses quickly, ignoring her protesting muscles and carefully avoiding letting her tight belt press against her bruised hips. Making her way outside, she hopes the rest of her day goes just as smoothly. She hopes Negan doesn’t make things weird between them. As long as he can suck it up and work alongside her, she’ll be fine. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Jo had clearly been asking for too much when she hoped Negan wouldn’t act differently just because of what transpired between them. From the second she’d met up with him and the other Saviors outside, he’s been a complete and utter bastard – bossing her around, treating her like an incompetent idiot, and yelling at her for every little thing. She’s been about ready to snap at him for at least an hour and his ever-growing condescending attitude is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. 

“Jesus, can’t I do my fucking job for _two goddamn seconds_ without you jumping down my throat?!” she screams, yelling at Negan after he’d been watching her every move and critiquing any bit of supplies she tried to toss into the truck. 

“Maybe if you were doing it _right_ , I wouldn’t have to be up your fuckin’ ass every step of the way!” he fires back. 

Jo is momentarily taken aback by Negan’s response. It isn’t like him not to pounce on her and punish her right away for mouthing off. It also isn’t like him to fight back, coming back at her with some heated, immature response. 

Clearly Jo’s decision to cut Negan off is not sitting well with him and he’s decided to act like a child instead of just moving on. Jo doesn’t want to deal with the brackish man and his ridiculous behavior just because he isn’t getting laid. He has wives for that, he has no reason to take his anger out on her. She’d take whatever punishment would come with talking back to Negan, she isn’t going to put up with his bullshit. 

Negan banishes Simon to another truck, deciding to drive himself and Jo by themselves back to the Sanctuary once they’ve completed their run. The entire trip back is spent bickering back and forth, tensions mounting the longer the two spend near each other. By the time they reach the factory, their voices are raised far past yelling and they’re both ready to strangle one another. 

Shutting the engine, Negan whirls on Jo, continuing to berate and scold her for irrelevant things that he normally wouldn’t give a shit about. His nitpicking and attitude piss Jo off and she retorts with an aggressive spouting of words in response. Eventually, they run out of unnecessary things to argue about and Jo moves to jump out of the truck. Negan follows suit, hopping out of his own door and rounding the truck to stop Jo before she makes her escape. 

Living up to his title as the world’s biggest asshole, Negan lets his wounded ego take control of his words and makes sure to put Jo in her place. He’s sure that Jo is operating under the assumption that sleeping with him earns her some kind of immunity, which is clearly lending a hand to her continuance to act out. 

Since the beginning of their rocky relationship, she’s known just how to push his buttons and try his patience, but this is beyond what he’s willing to tolerate. Until his dying breath he’d refuse to admit that Jo’s rejection this morning is a big motivator for his biting words. 

“I’m not clear on what makes you think you get some sort of special privilege just because I fucked you, but let me nip that in the bud right now,” Negan snarls coldly. “You are one of my workers, you answer to me, you _obey_ me. Is that clear? Your pussy doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever the fuck you want. You aren’t a wife, you’re just a _whore_.” 

Negan’s harsh words sting and Jo feels moisture spring to her eyes. Subconsciously, she knows Negan is just lashing out because he’s frustrated and resentful over their earlier conversation, but she’s too hurt and angry to consider that line of logic. What he said is entirely uncalled for and Jo won’t stand for it. 

Fueled by her own rage and wounded pride, she retaliates. She fires back with a fair dose of her own venom, blurting the cruel words before her brain can even comprehend the inevitable consequences of her own mouth. 

“You know, I really envy your wife,” Jo hisses, watching Negan’s shocked confusion before she clarifies her sharp and mean-spirited barb. “She’s lucky she’s dead…at least she got the fuck away from _you_. You _deserved_ it.” 

Jo sees the moment it happens – the instant Negan registers her diabolical words. She’s well aware that it’s a low-blow to bring up his dead wife, but she’s too determined to hurt Negan the way he’d hurt her with his words. Negan’s tawny eyes drain of all emotion and Jo knows she’s in trouble. When Negan brings his arm back, Jo sees what’s coming, though she’s powerless to stop the brutal slap that burns across her cheek. 

The force of Negan’s strong blow knocks Jo to the ground and she instantly scrambles to get back on her feet. Before she can right herself, a strong grip on her shirt yanks her off the ground. Jo hears the collar of her shirt tearing as Negan handles her brutishly, whipping her to the side and colliding her body roughly against the side of the truck behind her. 

For the first time, Jo finds herself genuinely afraid of Negan. Her body trembles faintly and blood dribbles from her split lip down her quivering chin as she looks into his eyes and sees nothing. No anger, no pain, no sadness. Just emptiness. Negan has been rough with her before, even threatened her life, but for once Jo is positive he’d willingly hurt her right now and that thought terrifies her. 

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” Negan whispers, both his eyes and his voice dangerously void of any force or emotion. 

She extracts herself from Negan’s clenched fists and slips past him in the direction of the open door of the Sanctuary. She gasps in shock when her body is wrenched backwards, her shirt ripping even further along the seams. Negan drags her body back in front of him, staring down at her as he continues to speak in a cold, empty voice. 

“No. _Leave_. Get the fuck out of here. You’re on your fuckin’ own now,” he asserts, pushing Jo away in disgust and knocking her back to the ground. 

Jo glares up at Negan, angry and shocked at his reaction. He can’t seriously be kicking her out over a heated exchange of words. Bracing her palms in the gravel, she scoots away from Negan before getting on her feet once more. She watches him turn away from her, his tall form disappearing from sight and leaving Jo on her own. 

Knowing she has no choice, Jo decides to follow Negan’s directions and leave. From here she can see that the gates are still open following their arrival and she figures she’ll just walk out. Making her way over to the gate, Jo passes the still open door of the truck she’d just climbed out of. 

Inside, she notices Lucille perched against the floorboard, seemingly abandoned by Negan. In a risky split-second decision that will likely prove to be a huge mistake, Jo reaches for the bat. Still standing in the gravel lot, Negan spots Jo just as she takes off running with his treasured weapon in her hand. 

Jo makes it no more than a few hundred feet before she hears the sound of someone pursuing her. She doesn’t even need to look over her shoulder to see who it is. The prospect of being chased down only urges her to sprint faster. With the bat swinging by her side with every step, Jo pumps her legs hurriedly. Her calves burn with the effort, her earlier knotted muscles long forgotten with the adrenaline surging through her. 

As the pounding steps behind her close in, Jo knows if she’s caught, she’s dead. She runs as hard as her body is physically capable of, but it just isn’t enough. A forceful weight slams into Jo’s back as Negan tackles her painfully to the ground. 

A cloud of dust surrounds her as the air is knocked from her lungs, and her palms are scraped raw against the rocky terrain. Jo feels his punishing grip on her shoulders as Negan flips her to her back, keeping her pinned to the ground with his legs straddling hers. The sight looming over her is terrifying – Negan’s expression is brutally wrathful and his eyes are spitting fire. 

Negan rips the wooden bat from Jo’s hand, holding it threateningly above her face as he wraps a gloved hand around her throat. 

“I should fuckin’ crush your skull and paint the dirt with your blood,” he barks nastily, squeezing Jo’s windpipe with more and more force as he speaks. He glares down at her with more hatred than she’s ever seen and Jo has to admit it’s frightening. 

On instinct, Jo fights against the hand constricting her air flow. When her frantic clawing at Negan’s tanned wrist proves ineffectual, she shifts her hands upwards and aims for his strained face. Scratching, slapping, and punching, she does her best to deter Negan from further hurting her. 

She lands several hard hits and even draws blood before the intimidating man finally responds to her pummeling little hands. With a howl of frustrated pain, Negan counters Jo’s attack, tossing his bat to the ground as he grips her shoulder to turn her onto her side. 

Quickly winning their power struggle, Negan presses a wide palm to one side of Jo’s face and forces her delicate cheek into the ground. She wails in protest as the gravel beneath her digs painfully into her face, the sharp stones pinching and tearing the skin until she feels drops of blood forming. 

Gray, dusty dirt clings to her damp face, caking around the drool seeping from her mouth and the blood oozing from her small cuts as she flails beneath Negan’s incredible strength. Her desperate cries and helpless scrambling are cut short when he wraps his free hand around her throat once more and immobilizes her. As her vision begins to blur, Jo is sure that the savage man is truly going to end her life. 

After several long moments of depriving her of oxygen and conveying his rage with his callous assault, Negan releases Jo. He removes his weight from atop her body and snatches Lucille up, leaving Jo coughing, shaking and bleeding in the dirt. 

She watches him walk away for a second time, regretting her outburst and the consequences she’d brought upon herself. When Negan passes through the front gates of the Sanctuary and they slam shut behind him, she knows she really fucked up this time. 

Crawling to her feet, she brushes the clumps of dirt from her mouth as she spares one last glance at the factory and the retreating man heading inside before turning away. With her overused muscles and screaming limbs, she runs. She runs for her life into the depths of the woods.


	20. Wish You Well

It had been Jo’s goal for the last few weeks to make her break from the Sanctuary, but now that she’s out, she wonders _why_ she’d wanted to leave in the first place. There she had food, clothes, a bed to sleep in, a job to keep her occupied, even people she could consider friends. Out here, she has nothing. She’s alone and struggling, just like she had been when the Saviors first found her. She hadn’t even had time to steal supplies or a weapon before being thrown out here on her own. Alas, she’d survived in the woods on her own before and she’ll just have to do it again.

For the first few days, Jo travels through the woods for hours. She can’t cover much ground on foot, but any distance she can put between herself and Negan is enough. He’d sent her away and put her in this situation – alone, unarmed, and unprepared; giving her nothing but a battered face, bruised neck, and wounded ego as a parting gift. Not so much as a well wish with her departure. 

She’s unsure if he will come after her and that fact alone urges her to keep moving. On one hand, he’s clearly finished with her and no longer has any concern for her life, but on the other hand, Jo knows how vindictive Negan can be. There’s always the chance that perhaps he wants his revenge and will come searching for her after all. 

Reverting back to her scavenging ways, Jo uses her honed skills to survive off the land. It’s a miserable and tedious task, with the resulting finds much less satisfying than the canned and dried food she’s been living on for the past few weeks. A scuffling in the leaves grabs Jo’s attention and she spots a small, brown rabbit nibbling on a patch of grass. Mouth watering at the possibility of real protein, Jo sneaks as silently as possible through the underbrush. 

Her presence goes unnoticed for a while, but eventually she moves too close to the rabbit and the timid critter takes off into the bushes. With a disappointed sigh, Jo decides she needs some type of weapon – something to help her hunt and also act as a means of defense against the walkers or any other unsavory beings. 

Jo locates a broken branch, something thick, long, and sturdy that she figures she can fashion into a spear of sorts. Of course, sharpening the stick into a spear is going to be difficult as she has no knife to scrape away the bark and shape the tip. Picking up a rough textured rock, Jo sets to work with that, scraping repeatedly against the wood. After countless minutes of effort, Jo observes her fruitless efforts. The point of her spear is rather dull and likely won’t do much damage, but it’s all she has for now. 

As the sun drops low in the sky, Jo decides to find a place to stop for the night. The past few days she’s curled up at the base of trees, managing to catch scant amounts of sleep. Her paranoia kept her awake most nights, never letting her relax long enough to drift off. Between the looming possibility of Negan finding her and the chance that walkers could pop up at any moment, Jo has low hopes for getting much rest. If only she could find some sort of empty house or building, she could recharge and be on her way. 

Locating a large tree trunk, Jo props herself in front of it. Even with her dull spear nearby, Jo doesn’t feel the least bit safe. She feels vulnerable and useless and afraid. For the first time since the breakout, Jo cries. She _sobs_. Tears rolls endlessly down her face, snot dripping from her nose and sorrowful gulps slipping past her lips. 

She cries for what seems like hours, feeling sorry for herself and angry that she’d ruined her only real opportunity for survival. She had hit the jackpot when she was brought to the Sanctuary, but she’d been too stupid to realize it at the time. Instead, she’d decided to throw it all away because of a petty argument over sex. 

Jo doesn’t want to admit it, but she misses Negan. She can’t say she’d grown an attachment to him necessarily, but she feels an odd emptiness being away from him. She’d felt safe with him, knowing that he’d never let any harm befall her. Maybe she didn’t particularly miss him, but rather the security he provided for her. Thanks to her own self doubt and regret, she’d lost all of that. Ruined what little relationship they’d developed trying to salvage her own ruined dignity and pride. 

Letting the tears continue to flow, Jo wraps her arms around her small body. Without any protection against the chilly night air, she shivers faintly as she fights against her body, willing herself to fall asleep. With her damp cheek pressed to the soft dirt, she closes her eyes and eventually drifts into a restless sleep. 

The sound of footsteps crunching loudly through the dead leaves rouses Jo from her light slumber. Snatching up her pathetic weapon and jumping to her feet, Jo scans her surroundings. Before long she locates the source of the commotion, spotting a wandering corpse waddling her way. Deciding it’s time to test the ability of her makeshift weapon, Jo lunges at the walker and thrusts the spear towards it. 

Thankfully, the softened and rotten flesh gives way, allowing Jo to slide her weapon through the mushy skull of the creature. It drops to the floor with a wet thump, proving that Jo’s weapon is suitable for killing the ambling corpses. The question still remains whether it’s adequate in defending her against humans, however. 

Now awake, Jo sets off again, wandering aimlessly through the forest. She has no plan for where she’s going and no idea what she’s going to do in the event that she can’t find somewhere safe to stay. That’s a bridge she’ll have to cross when she gets to it. She trudges through the woods, her senses on high alert as she checks repeatedly over her shoulder for anyone following her. 

In the distance, Jo spots a deer drinking from a stream coursing through the woods. Seeing this as a chance to use her weapon and finally feed herself, she crouches down among the trees and tries to sneak up on the unsuspecting animal. She steps stealthily towards her prospective meal, taking careful aim before she chucks the spear. 

She should take note of the silence blanketing the forest, the air vacant of the usual musical chirping of birds, but she’s too invested in her hunt to pay attention to that small detail. Just as Jo brings her arm back to send the stick hurtling through the air, the sound of something large traveling through the woods startles the deer and sends it sprinting away. 

With an angry yell, Jo whirls around to find out what had made the noise that cost her yet another meal. Expecting to find an animal or even a walker, Jo is surprised to see what lurks behind her. There in the clearing of trees stands a man, though he looks more like a wild animal. 

His skin is coated in filth, his long, shaggy hair matted and tangled and horribly greasy. His feet are bare and visibly raw and bleeding. Most surprisingly though is his dirty attire. 

Jo instantly recognizes the tan sweats with a dull orange “A” emblazoned across the front. He’s from the Sanctuary. Clearly a prisoner, which allays some of Jo’s fears at the spectacle of a man in front of her. The pistol clutched tightly in his hand is what scares her. 

“Did you…are you…you’re from the Sanctuary?” she splutters, trying to decide how best to let this man know that she means him no harm. 

Apparently her acknowledgement that she recognizes him lets the man know that she’s also from the Sanctuary. Her plain clothes are a dead giveaway that she’d been a member of the community and not a prisoner like him. That bit of information is enough to set him into action, advancing on her with his weapon aimed right for her. 

“No, no wait!” she pleads desperately. “I won’t hurt you. I…I escaped too.” 

Her revelation makes the man drop his gun back to his side as he regards her skeptically. 

“Y'ain’t a prisoner,” he observes pointedly in a thick Southern accent. 

“I was. They captured me and made me join their community,” Jo explains. “Negan tossed me out. He gave me this.” 

Jo gestures vaguely to the bruises and cuts she knows decorate her appearance. She points them out, hoping it convinces the man in front of her that she’s no longer on Negan’s side. She needs him to know that she’s out here on her own with no intention of going back to Negan. 

“He hit ya?” the man asks, taking note of the deep purple bruises around Jo’s throat and knowing she likely has no idea just how severe the dark blotches are. 

“Yeah, he’s a piece of shit,” she confirms. “So you don’t have to worry about me going back and turning you in. I’m just trying to find somewhere safe to stay now.” 

The grimy man gives her a once over, seeming to accept Jo’s words. He tucks his weapon into the loose waistband of his tan sweatpants before tilting his head and gesturing to Jo so she follows him. They walk side by side in silence and Jo realizes her companion is a man of very few words. 

“What’s your name?” she prompts, breaking the quietude between them. 

“Daryl,” he grunts lowly. 

“I’m Jo,” she responds in kind. 

With that, their brief conversation comes to an end and they continue to walk wordlessly through the forest. In their travels, they come across only a handful of walkers. Each one is taken out by Jo, who insists Daryl not waste his bullets on the creatures. She hopes that he sees she’s capable of handling herself and not some damsel in distress that he needs to concern himself with. She doesn’t want him to regret allowing her to tag along with him. 

Before long, Jo spots something in the distance just beyond the edge of the forest. As they move closer, the sight becomes more and more clear. She suddenly realizes that she recognizes the sight of high walls and protective fences. 

“Alexandria,” she mutters, drawing Daryl’s attention. “Is this where you came from?” 

Daryl merely nods, turning to Jo when she speaks the name of the community. He doesn’t ask how she knows of them, clearly already aware it’s because of her involvement with the Saviors. She thinks about apologizing for what happened to his friends, but the idea of mentioning his murdered comrades doesn’t really feel like the right thing to do. 

Inexplicably nervous now, Jo accompanies Daryl through the remaining expanse of forest until they reach the perimeter. They cross a patch of grass and a gravel road before reaching the mighty gates. Considering the late hour, Jo wonders if anyone will be there to let them in. 

Daryl bangs his fist against the aluminum wall blocking their entrance, receiving a response within minutes. A man at the top of the wall peers down at them, immediately calling out a command to open the gate when he spots Daryl’s familiar face. 

The gate slides open with a loud creak and the pair are met with the sight of Rick and several others one the other side of the gate. Nudging Jo inside, Daryl approaches his friends. They share a tense look before Rick closes the distance, pulling Daryl into a tight, lengthy hug. Daryl shares in hugs with the other people waiting for him while Jo stands a bit awkwardly off to the side. 

She feels like she’s intruding on a meaningful moment, not to mention the fact that these people have been torn apart by the one person she considers an ally – even if she has recently ruined that. 

“Who’s this?” Rick asks in his country lilt, lifting an arm to gesture towards Jo. 

“Jo. Picked her up on the way here,” Daryl mumbles. “She ain’t with Negan no more, it’s fine.” 

“That true? You not with them anymore?” Rick prompts, not seeming to trust Jo one bit. Not that she can blame him. 

Jo nods resolutely, confirming Daryl’s words. “They kept me prisoner for a while and then made me work for them. Same as your friend…Eugene, I think. Things got crazy and I got out. I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not going back there and I won’t let them know I’m here if you’re willing to let me stay.” 

Rick seems to accept Jo’s words, nodding at her before gesturing her over and leading her deeper inside the community. His followers eye Jo suspiciously, clearly not entirely on board with Rick’s decision to let her join them. Though Jo knows she’ll never really be on the side of the Alexandrians, she knows staying here is her best bet. Her chance at survival is much greater here than out in the woods. Plus, the ability to hide from Negan is an added bonus. She may not be their friend, but Jo is going to do all she can to gain their trust and earn her place here.


	21. Another Heart

The Alexandrians have been understandably hesitant to accept Jo into their community. Daryl has been nice enough, as much as a man who says no more than three words a day can be, anyway. She hasn’t spent enough time with any of the others to learn their names or get to know them. Something tells her that keeping her distance would be in her best interest. She doesn’t belong here and doesn’t really want to take the time to integrate herself into a community that doesn’t truly want her around.

Rick has welcomed Jo more than anyone else, offering an empty house for her to live in, as well as what few supplies and food they could spare for her. She hasn’t been given a weapon, but she understands the logic behind that too. Why should they trust someone who’d been working closely with their enemies? Still, Rick had agreed to let Jo stay with them, the only thing she really wants from these people is protection and a place to hide out for the time being. 

There aren’t many options for Jo in the way of jobs here. Most members of the small community spend their days going outside the gates to gather a satisfactory amount of supplies to offer as tribute to the Saviors. Obviously Jo can’t join them, as going outside the gates would go against the very reason she is even here. The chance that she might come across the Saviors while outside the walls of Alexandria is too high. Instead, she’s spent her time with Olivia, the woman in charge of inventory and keeping track of the gun supply. 

Olivia seems friendly, at least not being outright rude or cold to Jo. They don’t trade many words as they sort through the supplies that get brought back to them, but rather each keep to their own respective work, only speaking to each other when they have to. Jo doesn’t feel any offense at the way her new companions treat her. They don’t owe her a thing. 

Regardless of the odd tension and boring way of life here, Jo is adjusting pretty decently. She doesn’t get too comfortable though, always keeping her wits about her and watching her own back in the event that someone decides she shouldn’t be here. 

On top of her wariness of the people, Jo has to prepare herself for the arrival of the Saviors. Rick warned her that their scheduled pick up is approaching, though he isn’t sure whether they’ll be here. Although their last visit had been met with heavy gunfire, Jo knows it’s inevitable that they will return. Things will go back to how they were and the Alexandrians will be expected to resume their offerings to the Saviors. Jo just hopes that when they do show up, Negan does not accompany them. 

When the day of the Saviors’ pickup finally comes, Rick tells Jo to stay inside. He hides her away in the closet of an empty house, knowing that it’s already been rifled through by the Saviors and they won’t waste their time looking through it again. Huddled inside the tiny closet, Jo hears the approaching vehicles as they cruise through the center of the community. She remains inside the closet, too afraid to come out. After a long time with no evidence of movement, Jo’s curiosity gets the better of her and she slips out of the closet. 

Crawling to the window, Jo peeks her head above the sill, staying as hidden as possible as she glances through the dirty glass. Across the street she can see several figures seated in the rocking chairs upon the porch of the small house. A shiver runs through Jo’s body when she recognizes one of the figures as Negan. 

With his clean shaven face, Jo almost could’ve mistaken him for someone else if not for his recognizable outfit and distinct tattoos. Dressed in a thin, white t-shirt and cradling a glass of amber liquid, he rocks leisurely in the wooden chair, sharing in conversation with another man. 

Jo squints her eyes, trying to identify the other man. Eventually she realizes it’s Spencer, an unbearably cocky and smarmy little shit whom she’d kept her distance from. Negan seems to be enjoying their conversation, though Jo knows that wide, toothy grin across his face doesn’t always signify happiness. Like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey, Negan’s grin is merely an illusion, a trick; smoke in mirrors to lull you into a false sense of security. 

After a few minutes, Negan and Spencer rise from their seats as Negan replaces his customary leather jacket and calls something out to several of his men. Jo watches the men move towards the garage attached to the house across the street before they emerge, carrying a large pool table out into the street. 

Negan and Spencer surround the table, gathering the balls and preparing to play a game. As usual, Negan’s behavior never ceases to confuse Jo. Here he is playing a game of billiards, smack dab in the center of a community of people who’d tried to kill him and all of his men. Negan is certainly a mystery to Jo. 

The game continues and Jo watches the men interact, making sure to stay low so that no one spots her. Some of the Alexandrians gather around as well, standing nearby to watch the game. Somehow even from inside the house, Jo can tell when the mood between the two men shifts. Negan’s face hardens and she can tell his smile is more forced than genuine. 

Spencer seems to be gesturing, evidently trying to articulate something to Negan. Whatever it is, Negan appears less than pleased, his eyes darkening as he responds to whatever Spencer has said. The tension grows as Negan approaches Spencer, moving well into the man’s personal space as he leans close to his face. 

Jo inhales sharply when Negan unsheathes his large knife and plunges it deep into Spencer’s abdomen, effectively gutting him like a fish. Jo watches in disgust as his guts spill rapidly from the gash across his stomach before he drops to the ground in a motionless heap. 

Negan gesticulates fluidly, turning to regard the spectators around him. His disregard for people’s lives and unaffected feelings towards murder still shocks Jo. Before she can slide away from the window and shut herself back behind the doors of the closet, a gunshot echoes down the street. Jo scours the street full of people, spotting a slender woman with dark pigtails aiming a gun in Negan’s direction. Clearly, her shot had missed as he still stands near the pool table, totally unharmed with his trusty bat in hand. 

One of the Saviors tackles the woman to the ground, quickly disarming her. Negan paces angrily, bent at the waist with the passionate way he yells in the direction of the woman who’d attempted to kill him. He pauses momentarily, addressing the Savior pinning the little assassin to the ground. In an instant, the Savior raises her gun, sending a shot off in the direction of one of the houses where several Alexandrians stand. 

A bullet rips through Olivia’s face, knocking her backwards onto the porch. Jo gasps again, watching in shock as Negan addresses the group once more before gathering his people and leaving. Jo finds herself grateful that she’d decided to hide, glad that she wasn’t outside; she can’t imagine what fate would have befallen her in the event that Negan found her here. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Alexandria finds itself in the middle of yet another all-out battle with the Saviors. They’d shown up unexpectedly following their last pickup, armed to the teeth and ready to make Alexandria pay for the damage they’d done previously. This time the Saviors’ ambush had been better planned, using the unexpectedness of their arrival to their advantage. The moment Jo realized what was going down, she’d run to the safety of her house, hiding inside and hoping to wait out the war going on outside. 

Bullets fly from every direction, ripping through buildings and racking up casualties for both sides. Jo had seen both Simon and Negan before she escaped and she finds herself hoping that they aren’t among the dead. 

When the gunfire seems to thin out, Jo realizes that someone has run out of ammunition. Whether it’s the Saviors or the Alexandrians, she can’t tell. The battle has been ongoing for so long that she knows the other side will likely run out of ammo too. It seems such a waste to be using precious bullets for this, but Jo doesn’t care, as long as this all ends soon. 

When the gunshots finally cease altogether, she braves the short trek to the window, daring to look outside. The streets have several dead bodies scattered about as the living scramble to take cover from the opposition. There’s a loud commotion and lots of yelling before the Saviors gather and make their escape. Jo thinks it’s over until she hears the faint yelling of words that cause her blood to freeze. 

“We got him! We got Negan!” a man yells as he runs down the street towards the remaining members of the community. 

Jo spots Rick and Daryl among the group that heads down the street, following behind the sprinting man who’d come to deliver the news. Both her heart and stomach drop as she tries to comprehend the fact that Negan is dead. 

Needing to get out of the house as the walls seem to close in on her, Jo scrambles out the front door and collapses onto the porch. She pants rapidly around the knot in her throat, waiting for the tears that don’t seem to be coming. She just feels numb. 

She stays curled into herself for a long while, struggling to wrap her head around any of this. Jo doesn’t know what she’s feeling; she can’t quite pinpoint the emotion, but she knows she doesn’t like it. Negan is _gone_. While that fact eases her paranoia, it also gives her a deep sense of sorrow. She doesn’t understand why, but she knows it’s there. 

Just as Jo starts to lift herself to her feet, she spots a group of people shuffling slowly her way. They appear to be carrying something heavy and Jo stares in wonder as she tries to determine what it is. Spotting the black mass among all the people, Jo’s mouth gapes open in awe. They’re dragging Negan’s body down the street. 

The sight of it shocks her, she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this. As cruel as Negan had been to them, he doesn’t deserve this. This savage treatment of his body is borderline barbaric. Before Jo can skip off the porch and call out to them in protest, Rick’s words halt her movements. 

“Carl, unlock the cell!” he yells to his gangly son. 

Jo furrows her brows at the demand. The cell? Why would they put Negan in a cell? As she spots several Alexandrians smashing the skulls of the corpses littering the streets, she draws a conclusion. They’re preventing any of their dead from coming back, but they’re going to keep Negan’s corpse locked up. The very idea of it sickens her. Finally leaving her perch on the porch, she runs towards Rick. 

“Rick, you can’t…” Jo begins before he cuts her off. 

“We’re not gonna kill him,” Rick offers. “We’re not animals.” 

Jo twists her face in confusion at Rick’s words. Why would Rick say that to reassure her if Negan is already dead? 

Perhaps she’d been wrong in assuming that Negan is dead. Maybe she’d taken the man’s words too literally earlier and he hadn’t meant that they killed Negan, only captured him. 

A wave of relief overcomes Jo at that realization. Still, this doesn’t seem like it’s going to end well for Negan. A spear of panic courses through her as Jo wonders what they plan to do to him if he really is still alive. Given the way they’d suffered under his hand, Jo assumes they’ll just end up killing him either way. They may torture him a little first, but he’s definitely doomed. 

Watching helplessly as they drag Negan’s limp body away, Jo diverts her eyes from the bloody face of the man. She can’t stand to watch this. She locks herself up back inside her house, trying to calm down as she debates what she should do. Unsure how and if she should help Negan, she opts to let things settle a bit before going to speak with Rick.


	22. The Cage

After easing her mind with the confirmation from Rick that Negan is still alive, Jo had secluded herself from the entire community. She couldn’t stand to be around the constant victorious conversations and celebrations over the fact that they’d managed to capture the man. While she understood their happiness, she had no interest in listening to it. The reminder of Negan’s imprisonment only makes Jo worry what exactly it is they’re doing to him down in that cell.

With the death of Olivia, it has fallen on Jo to keep up with the daily inventory on her own. Now that Alexandria no longer has to provide for Negan, Jo’s job has doubled and she struggles to manage the constant flow of incoming supplies. Thankfully, the extra work keeps her occupied and distracts her from spending all of her time thinking about Negan. Each day on the short walk back to her house, she passes the building she knows houses Negan and has to convince herself not to stop. Today though, she can’t help herself. 

Turning down the short driveway, Jo marches up the porch and creaks open the front door. Inside she finds Rick, deep in conversation with another member of the community. The sound of Jo’s footsteps alerts them to her presence and Rick lifts his head to give her a small smile. 

He dismisses the other man from the house before inviting Jo in and offering her a glass of lemonade. Jo takes the proffered glass of sweet drink as she awkwardly clears her throat. Before Jo has a chance to voice her concerns, the sound of stomping footsteps and a slamming door interrupts the tense silence between herself and Rick. 

“I’m _done_!” a hysteric female voice yells. “That man is an impossible, vulgar monster!” 

Jo suppresses a laugh as a ragged woman paces around the corner, headed straight for Rick. Her arms are dripping wet and her shirt is damp, likely from the bucket of soapy water she carries. She slams the bucket down on the ground, sending a shower of suds and water all over the floor before pointing an accusatory finger at Rick. 

“He’s clean, but I’m _not_ feeding him. Get some other sorry bastard to do it,” she hisses before stomping out of the house. 

As amused as she is by the woman’s outburst, Jo feels a pang of sympathy for her. Any poor soul tasked with having to bathe Negan would probably have a very similar reaction. The man is horribly crude to begin with and having him naked in front of a woman is just begging for some kind of issue. 

Jo flicks her eyes to Rick’s distressed visage, his tension deeply creasing his face. Clearly not wanting to go down to the cell himself and not about to send another of his unsuspecting people into Negan’s clutches, Jo steps in to offer her help. 

“I’ll do it,” Jo mutters softly, gesturing to the tray of food perched on the kitchen counter. “I’ve dealt with him before.” 

Rick regards Jo for a long moment, his doubts written all over his face. “No,” he mutters hesitantly. “It’s clear how important it was for you to know he was alive, and that concerns me. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go near him.” 

“I understand your apprehension, but I need to do this,” Jo states adamantly, her voice much stronger than it had been mere moments ago. “Call it morbid curiosity, but seeing Negan getting knocked down a peg or two is gonna be really satisfying after what he did to me. Let me do this, Rick.” 

Jo waits patiently for Rick’s permission, imploring him wordlessly to trust her enough to allow her to see Negan. She has no idea what she’s hoping to accomplish by going down into that basement, but she knows she has to do it. 

There had been some truth in her pleading words to Rick, but Jo is partially motivated by some sick loyalty to Negan and a need to make sure he’s okay. Sure they’d had their issues during the course of their twisted relationship – which was less than amiable, but he’d never intentionally hurt her. Well, _almost_ never, Jo thinks as she recalls the bruises she’d acquired after her vicious jab about Negan’s dead wife, but she accepts responsibility for that. Still, Negan hadn’t ever really harmed her and that small courtesy urges her to see him and make sure he isn’t being mistreated here. 

Cradling the tray of food in her arms, Jo eases the basement door open and stares down the dimly lit stairwell. Taking the first step, she slowly treads down the stairs, trying to step carefully to make as little noise as possible. Jo steels her spine and takes a deep, settling breath before she turns the corner into the room. Negan’s shock is too severe for him to hide it, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline and his lips parting momentarily before he catches himself. 

“Well _damn_ , did you miss me so much you had to track me down and come pay me a visit, sweetheart?” he drawls, using his obnoxious sense of humor to cover the fact that Jo’s presence had caught him entirely off guard. 

Negan’s smarmy comment catches Jo off guard as well. Considering how enraged he’d been with her during their last encounter, she’s surprised to hear him joking around and messing with her. Granted the time and space had probably fizzled some of his negative feelings, but Jo still hadn’t expected him not to hold a grudge against her for being such a bitch. 

“Not quite,” Jo responds flatly. “I’ve been living here for a few days, so imagine my surprise when I found out my new friends finally managed to capture the big, bad Negan. I just had to come and see it for myself…you locked up and treated like a fucking _animal_. Sucks getting a taste of your own medicine, doesn’t it?” 

Jo gathers every ounce of resentment and bitterness she feels towards Negan to fuel her snarled words. Though she’s relieved to see him in one piece, Jo doesn’t want him to know she’d been concerned about him. Hopefully her venomous response has convinced him that she’s no longer interested in having anything to do with him. 

Upon hearing Jo’s biting response, Negan snaps his mouth shit. His face falls and takes on a serious expression. Jo realizes this is the most remorse she’s ever seen from Negan. It’s also the closest to apologetic he’s ever going to get. He’ll never apologize to anyone, least of all Jo. She knows that. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Being put in charge of Negan is an exhausting task even for Jo. She knows better than anyone else here what Negan is like and she’s _still_ having trouble keeping her composure around him. Right from the start he’d been determined to make Jo’s job as difficult as possible. 

Every day when she traverses the stairs to bring him his meals, she finds Negan standing at the gate of his cell with his arms threaded through the bars, making sure that she can’t get into the cell unless he allows it. He stays there, lobbing ridiculous questions and points of conversation at Jo and refusing to move out of the way until she humors him and responds to whatever asinine thing he wants to talk about. On days when he’s feeling particularly immature and petty, he’ll try his best to start an argument or get a rise out of her. 

Even when he backs off and lets Jo unlock the cell and step inside to leave the tray of food for him, he’s sure to make her as uneasy as possible. Perched on the cot across the tiny cage, he sits tensed with his eyes trained on Jo, watching her every movement and letting her know that he can spring on her in a second. He’d even gone as far as slipping his hand under his waistband and staring lasciviously at Jo as he started jerking off with her still in the room. 

On top of that, when Negan strips and changes out of the few pairs of worn fatigues he’s been given, he purposely does it when Jo is sitting outside the cell. Jo sees his ploy and does her best not to react to how much of Negan’s long, lean, and tanned body she gets an eyeful of every few days. Rather than leave the dirty garments where Jo can reach them, he holds them hostage, making her step close to the cell to take them from his hands. The action is very much a power play, something Jo is well aware of when Negan grips the clothing tightly and lets it go only when Jo meets his eyes. 

Jo quickly grows sick of his games, her attitude swelling and her patience wearing so thin that she starts to snap at Negan. 

“ _Seriously_ , Negan?” she barks, regarding him with her arms crossed over her chest. 

She’s been trying for the last few minutes to get him to cooperate and she’s ready to rip her hair out. First, he refused to eat anything until she brought Rick down to talk to him. She’d lied to him and said that Rick was out gathering supplies and wouldn’t be back until later, but she’d get him to see Negan. Somehow that had been enough to appease the man. His current request, however, is something Jo isn’t going to grant. Fitting her thin leg between the bars of the cell, she taps her toe against the bucket of soapy water and pushes it closer to Negan. 

“C'mon darlin’, what’s-her-face was more than happy to lend a helping hand,” he purrs enticingly. “I need you to wash my back for me.” 

Jo rolls her eyes at Negan’s saucy wink. Based on the last woman’s reaction to having to bathe a grown man with an inexhaustible mouth and wandering hands, Jo knows better than to fall into this trap. She isn’t getting involved and besides, she’s finally trusting Negan enough to do something on his own rather than force him to be treated like an incapable child who needs everything done for them; the least he can do is appreciate that. 

“I’m sure you can manage on your own, you’re a big boy,” Jo jokes, instantly regretting her choice of words. 

“Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty, baby,” Negan growls, standing up to move towards the bars of the cell. “Come here.” 

The gravelly tone of Negan’s voice sends a shiver down Jo’s spine and she clenches her teeth, not wanting to give in to him. Even if he seemed to forgive her for the things she’d said the last time she saw him, Jo doesn’t believe that she’s safe going anywhere near Negan. Stepping within his grasp like this is a dangerous risk she isn’t willing to take just in case he’s still angry with her. She holds her ground, not taking a single step towards him. If he won’t cooperate, neither will she. 

“Negan, please just do as I ask,” Jo begs, almost whining. “I’m not coming in there, so if you aren’t gonna clean yourself, then you can just sit there smelling like shit. I really don’t care." 

Jo levels what she hopes is a menacing gaze on Negan, hoping he takes her seriously. His next words let her know how wrong she is. A wicked grin splits Negan’s lips and he flashes his bright teeth as he presses his chest and face to the thick metal bars, running his hand up and down the pole suggestively. 

"I know you miss Daddy’s cock, little girl. Why don’t you come over here and get it?” Negan coos sensually, his voice whiskey smooth and dripping with lechery. 

If not for the dark, calculating look in his eyes, Jo could almost see herself falling for Negan’s soft voice and innocent, beseeching expression. Like a magnet, he pulls her in and she almost surrenders. The deep, dulcet tone of his voice melts away some of the stress weighing on and tensing her body, but she quickly snaps out of the brief daze. She knows better than to let him seduce and sway her to bend to his will. 

“Mm, just wait until I get out of this fuckin’ cage,” Negan rumbles heatedly. 

Unsure whether the low statement is a promise of a threat, Jo has heard enough. Just as she goes to open her mouth and tell Negan off once and for all, a loud explosion that seems to rattle the ground causes her to whip around. 

Reacting out of curiosity, Jo runs up the basement stairs and out of the house into the street. A few Alexandrians step outside their own houses, watching in disbelief as several of the Saviors’ trucks barrel towards them. 

The front end of the first truck is smashed and Jo realizes the thundering boom she’d heard was them driving straight through the protective gates surrounding the community. The convoy comes to a stop in a cloud of gray dust before several Saviors hop out and start to gather. Jo figures they’re here for Negan and wonders if she should hide in case they manage to break him out of his prison. 

“Where’s Negan?” a tall, bearded man bellows loudly, addressing anyone willing to provide him with an answer. When his question is met with silence, he continues. “Hand him over and we can call it even. Give us what we want and we can all live in peace.” 

“We can’t do that,” Rick calls out. “We give him back and things will just go back to what they were.” 

“Don’t misunderstand,” the man chuckles. “We don’t want him back as our leader. We want him dead just as much as y'all do, but we gotta be the one’s to put him down.” 

Jo gasps at the man’s words, shocked the hear that Negan’s own people have turned against him. As that fact sinks in, Jo knows Negan is in trouble. Not sticking around to witness the rest of this exchange, Jo turns and runs back inside. She has to warn Negan. 

Nearly tripping over her own feet as she stumbles down the wooden stairs, Jo runs straight for the cell. Catching herself on the bars and breathing heavily, she observes Negan’s casual yet confused expression at her hectic re-entrance. 

“The Saviors are here…for you,” she pants brokenly. “They want you…dead. Negan, you have to…stop them.” 

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Jo stares dumbly at Negan. For whatever reason, he’s showing not even a minimal reaction to her words. He doesn’t seem shocked or worried that his men are here to kill him. He doesn’t seem to care in the least. 

As she’s waiting for some sort of response, the sound of muffled gunshots makes it’s way into the basement. Indistinct voices echo through the air and Jo starts to panic. Reaching into her back pocket for the keyring Rick had bestowed upon her, she unlocks Negan’s cell and swings the door open. 

“Negan, come on. You have to go!” she yells frantically as he merely stares blankly at her. She hardly believes that this powerful man is really going to take this lying down and let his own people take his life. 

The hollow sound of boots stomping down the wooden stairs catches Jo’s attention and she whimpers in fear, flitting her eyes from Negan to the opening at the bottom of the staircase. Much to her relief, the person who appears around the wall is Rick. 

His face looks as panicked as Jo feels and he calls out to her, warning her that the Saviors are burning down every building until they find Negan. Rick’s expression changes to one of slight shock as he takes in the sight of the open cell. Noting that Jo is saving more than her own ass, Rick’s face softens and accepts what she’s doing. 

“His stuff is in the garage, grab it and run. Get out of here,” Rick offers quietly in defeat before jogging back up the stairs. 

The realization that Rick has just swallowed his pride and spared Negan’s life rather than turning him in seems to spur the man into action. Jumping up from the cot, Negan runs barefoot out of the cell with Jo trailing right behind him. He heads straight for the garage, clearly having heard Rick’s words. 

In the corner sits a folded pile of clothes and Negan’s barbed bat. Jo follows more hesitantly behind him, keeping her distance as he whips the tattered cloth off his muscular body and dons his own outfit. Just as he slips his boots on and snatches up his bat, his eyes land on Jo. 

The menace behind his gaze frightens Jo and fear blankets her at the realization that there is no longer a steel barrier separating her from the dangerous man. Before she has a chance to make her escape, an explosion of fire rattles through the house behind them. 

The blast of heat prompts Jo to skitter across the garage as Negan lifts the overhead door and slips outside. A wave of oxygen sweeps through the garage and feeds the creeping trail of fire crackling in the doorway they’d just come through moments ago. Smoke clouds the room quickly, filling Jo’s lungs as she drops to the ground and crawls out of the blackened garage. She escapes the structure before flames engulf it, collapsing on the ground and coughing harshly as she sucks clean air into her lungs. 

A shadow looms above Jo, blocking out the light shining from the afternoon sun. She wrenches her eyes open, looking up at Negan’s imposing form. She cowers in the grass, eyeing the bat he grips tightly. Now free of his prison and having Jo within his grasp, she’s afraid that this is it for her. He’s finally going to kill her. She cringes when Negan moves, curling into herself before she realizes he’s extending a hand in her direction, a look of longing in his eyes. 

“Truce?” he offers with a flick of his dark eyebrow. 

Jo remains motionless for a long moment before nodding her head slowly. Leaning up on her elbow, she accepts Negan’s hand and allows him to pull her to her feet. Negan keeps his forceful grip on Jo’s hand, dragging her along the perimeter of the high fence before reaching the portion of gate the Saviors had broken down. Pumping her legs to keep up with Negan’s lengthy strides, Jo holds tightly to his hand as they slip out of Alexandria and deep into the surrounding woods.


	23. Brains

Being outcast to the woods for the third time is even worse with Negan tagging along. He won’t stop brooding and complaining about every little thing. Jo is one snide comment away from leaving him behind. Even with no supplies and no plan, being on her own can’t _possibly_ be a worse fate than being stuck with Negan. Almost anything would have to be an improvement on her current situation.

“You wanna make some more fuckin’ noise? I don’t think they heard you in China,” Negan hisses over his shoulder when Jo steps onto a branch and snaps it loudly with her weight. 

“Oh, shut up,” she bites back, the heat and her exhaustion robbing her of what little filter she has left. “Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole to your people, we would be somewhere safe and not out here in the woods trying to avoid all these dead fucks.” 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a disrespectful brat I wouldn’t have had to come looking for you and gotten myself into this shit,” Negan retorts, his admitted words shocking Jo into a stunned silence. 

He’d come to Alexandria to find her? How did he know to look there? Better yet, why did he even care where she ended up? Unable to voice any of the questions coursing through her brain, Jo proceeds to follow quietly behind Negan as they make their way through the dense forest though her ability to keep her mouth shut doesn’t last for very long. 

“No one asked you to do that,” she intones, her words coming out more angry than she’d intended. “You didn’t need to come looking for me.” 

Negan snorts out a facetious laugh as he peers at Jo over his shoulder. “Yeah, I should’ve just left you with ol’ Ricky Dicky, right? Bet you were fucking him, too,” he mumbles. 

Scrunching her face up in disgust, Jo catches up to Negan and grabs his arm to turn him towards her. “I guess I should have been fucking him since I’m just a _whore_ , aren’t I?” she snaps, shoving at his shoulders. “Fuck you. I didn’t ask you to give a shit about me. If you want to go, then just _go_. Not that you actually have anywhere to go since you treated your own people like shit.” 

“I’d be real careful before that mouth of yours gets you into trouble again,” Negan growls as he stares down at Jo, defensive and angry. “Don’t talk to me like you know anything about the shit I’ve done. You ain’t perfect either sweetheart, I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you of that.” 

The rattling growl of a nearby walker catches Jo’s attention before she can form a rebuttal to his words and she panics. She’s unarmed and vulnerable and the approaching danger has her on edge. 

With a strong hand pressing against her, Negan pushes Jo behind him and instructs her to stay there until he can spot the walker. It steps out from behind a cluster of trees, stumbling straight for them with it’s rotted jaw slack and it’s flesh dropping disgustingly. Negan strides towards it, swinging Lucille with a fair amount of force, effectively demolishing the skull of the creature. 

“Good thing you have me, huh?” Negan grins cockily, his earlier vexation clearly forgotten. 

“Yeah, _lucky_ me,” Jo mutters to herself. 

They carry on this way for a while, Negan fancying himself as some sort of hero every time he takes out another walker. Before long, Jo spots a small shack nestled within the trees. An odd sense of nostalgia overcomes her when she recognizes the decrepit building as her old home. 

Grabbing Negan, she points it out and pushes him towards it to make sure there’s nothing inside. He swings the door open, his boots stomping across the wooden floorboards as he holds Lucille at the ready. Securing the house, he calls to Jo and she joins him inside. 

“I used to live here,” Jo whispers. “Before you kidnapped me,” she adds with sass. 

“You’re welcome for that,” Negan grunts, looking around the small, musty cabin with disdain. “This place is a shithole.” 

“Well, you can’t exactly expect a 5 star resort when the world is falling apart around you,” she counters softly. 

Negan grumbles something unintelligible in response as he paces around the small room. He circles around Jo before dropping his heavy body into the tiny bed and bouncing on the thin mattress several times. As he reclines into the dirty pillow, Jo can see the question brewing in his head before he even asks it. 

“You sleep here?” he wonders aloud, smirking when Jo nods in response. “Ever touch yourself under these dirty ass blankets?” 

Jo screws her face up in distaste as Negan creepily strokes his palm over the aforementioned blanket. “Oh my god, you’re so gross,” she scoffs, turning away from the immature man lounging in front of her. 

Before she can put any distance between them, Negan lunges at her, lacing a thick arm around her waist and pulling her backwards with him. They tumble together onto the thin mattress, Negan locking Jo in his tight grip and refusing to let her go no matter how much she squirms. She realizes fighting him isn’t going to get her anywhere and eventually settles down. Feeling her surrender, Negan flips over to pin her small body beneath his. 

“How the hell did I get stuck with you?” Jo grumbles. 

“Not like you have any choice,” Negan responds, trailing his fingers gently down her smooth cheek. 

His words are true, as much as Jo doesn’t want to believe them. If there was any other option, Jo knows she and Negan would never have teamed up again. She’d saved his life and now he’s repaying the favor by keeping her safe and alive. They have no choice but to let go of their wounded ego and hurt feelings and work together. It may not be an ideal situation, but they need each other. 

“Let the past be the past,” Negan whispers forcefully before rolling off of Jo’s body and relaxing beside her on the tiny bed. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Sneaking out of the tiny bed had been easier than Jo expected, thanks to how deeply Negan was sleeping. His hot breath puffed across her skin while he snored obnoxiously in her ear and she knew she’d never be able to fall back to sleep. Instead, she’d carefully extracted herself from his strong arms and made her way into the cool morning air. 

The light breeze had been refreshing until she’d caught wind of the dirty, sweaty smell rising from her own skin. Horrified that she’d been so close to Negan smelling like a farm, she hastily made her way to the nearby stream to freshen up. 

Jo shakes the excess water from her bare skin as she begrudgingly replaces her filthy clothes. She’d have to remember to wash her clothes soon, too. Feeling significantly less revolting, she starts a slow jog back to the cabin. 

Her ankle twists painfully on a loose rock buried beneath the dead leaves and she lets out a sharp cry as she tumbles to the ground. On her way down, she reaches out to catch her fall and the jagged end of a broken tree limb gouges deeply into her forearm. Rolling away from the prodding wood with a pained grunt, Jo looks down just as a thick trickle of crimson oozes from the gash in her arm. 

“Fuck,” she hisses to herself, easing her body off the ground and cradling her wounded arm as she limps her way back to Negan. 

Busting through the door with unintentional commotion, Jo’s entrance rouses Negan instantly. He shoots up in the small bed, clapping eyes on the bleeding woman standing in the doorway. The moment he sees the injury to her arm and the worried look on her face, he springs into action. 

“Are you bit?!” he yells, his panic lending to his inability to control the volume of his booming voice. 

“No, no, I’m okay,” Jo placates quickly. “I fell and cut myself.” 

“Honey, goddammit,” Negan groans, rubbing a palm over his face in relief. “What the hell were you doing out there by yourself? You trying to get yourself killed?” 

Jo rolls her eyes at Negan’s over-protectiveness, sitting down on the edge of the bed, making sure not to jostle her arm too much. “Can you shut up and help me, please?” she implores. 

Negan sits next to Jo before grabbing the free end of the threadbare, graying sheet beneath them. He holds the cloth tightly and rips two long strips of it off with his teeth. Pulling Jo’s bleeding arm towards him, Negan sweeps the smaller strip of fabric around the laceration to collect some of the smearing blood. Jo braces herself as he picks up the second strip and starts to wrap it tightly around her arm. 

“Ow!” she cries, as Negan applies a painful amount of pressure to the wound. 

“That’s what you get for wandering off,” he scolds, swaddling the last of fabric over Jo’s wound and tying the ends of it with a sharp pull. “There. Now don’t wander off without me again,” he demands as his thumb rubs gently around the edges of her bandage. 

“Thank you,” Jo whispers, glancing shyly up at Negan, trying to gauge the mood between them. 

Negan doesn’t respond verbally, but rather surprises Jo by pulling her into a tender kiss. She freezes for a moment before melting into the kiss and pressing her lips enthusiastically to his. A heady sense of desperation falls over Jo and she can tell that Negan reciprocates the feeling wholeheartedly. 

He reaches for Jo, pulling at her clothes as he presses his lips feverishly all over her face and neck. Jo moans throatily each time Negan nips at her sensitive skin, the sharp sensation igniting her desire. Before long, Negan grows frustrated with Jo’s clothes and he rips them from her body, careful not to hit her wounded arm in the process. 

Negan glares down at Jo as he removes his own clothing at a rapid pace. Now as naked as she is, he steps towards her and runs his hands from her knees to her thighs, gently massaging the smooth skin in his wake. Even in the dim light, he can see the moisture glistening between her luscious thighs and his mouth waters at the sight. Before Negan has a chance to taste the sweet flesh presented to him, Jo parts her thighs demurely, baring herself to him. 

“Fuck me, Negan,” she purrs devilishly. 

Her words awake something primal in Negan and he scoops her pliable body off the bed and into his arms. Jo wraps her arms and legs around Negan’s body, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. From the position he holds her in, Negan can feel the heat of her core emanating near his throbbing cock and he snaps. 

He lowers Jo’s body, impaling her on his stiff length with swift speed and jarring force. The near painful stretch of her body causes Jo to yelp, the sound dissolving into a fit of moans as Negan begins to lift her body, setting a brutal pace right from the start. 

Threading his long fingers into Jo’s hair, he uses his grip to wrench her head back sharply as she bounces on his cock. The small room is filled with the sound of Jo’s wild moans and the wet slap of skin as Negan drowns the lust-crazed girl in ecstasy. 

With her neck at a vulnerable angle, Negan latches his lips onto the smooth surface and sucks harshly, marking Jo’s skin with a deep purple bruise. The vaguely pain-laced sensation triggers a wave of pleasure and Jo’s core ripples around Negan’s driving length. Negan snarls ravenously at the tightness of her drenched pussy and immediately spins to crash her body into the nearest wall. 

Jo cries out more desperately, dragging her nails down Negan’s chest as he pounds into her. He wedges his forearms under the bends of her knees, spreading her thighs wider as he fucks her brutally against the crumbling wall. The tenuous grip Jo has been keeping on her control starts to slip and her body twitches with the power of her impending orgasm. 

“I’m so close,” Jo forces out as her muscles quiver and her breath hitches. 

“Fuck,” Negan grunts, pistoning his hips even more forcefully. “Let me feel that tight little pussy cum all over my dick.” 

An unintelligible litany of moans and slurred words pours from Jo’s lips as Negan continues his delicious assault on her body. With only a few more deep thrusts, Jo is pushed over the edge as her orgasm blazes through her body. Her back bows and her thighs shake as she soaks Negan’s thrusting cock with her flood of juices. The result of her potent climax drips down her thighs and onto Negan’s, covering their skin in a sheen of moisture. 

Chasing his own release, Negan braces his hands on either side of Jo’s body, holding himself up as he fucks her through the end of her orgasm. His thick cock pummels her worn out body until he can’t hold out any longer. Wrapping his arms around Jo’s sweaty back, he pulls her body close to his, thrusting upwards as he explodes inside her. 

Jo clings limply to Negan’s shoulders, her body boneless and fluid as he rides out his own intoxicating climax. Panting against her damp skin, he pulls his softening cock from her body and sets her on her feet, watching with fascination as their combined fluids drip from between her legs and puddle on the floor. Jo raises her eyes to Negan’s, unsure of the feelings swimming through her and confused by the odd sense of finality to their coupling. 

“We should clean up and get out of here,” Jo offers awkwardly, turning to gather her clothing and escape the strange tension forming between them. 

“Jo?” Negan utters lowly as he grabs her arm to turn her around. “Thank you.” 

Jo freezes at his words of gratitude. What exactly is he thanking her for? She doesn’t have the chance to clarify as Negan pulls her close and presses a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. 

Easily moving on from the uncomfortably tender moment, Negan picks up his own discarded clothes and dresses himself in silence. Locating a dirty and worn backpack in the corner of the cabin, Negan fills it with what little supplies had been left over from when Jo lived in the shack and tosses it over his shoulder. When Jo is fully clothed again as well, they share a nod and set off out into the woods once more. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Negan props Lucille delicately against the trunk of a tree, making sure she won’t fall to the ground before dumping the backpack beside her and walking away. Obscuring himself from Jo’s line of vision behind a smattering of trees, he unbuckles his belt and eases his zipper down. Careful to aim the stream of urine away from his boots, he tips his head back as he relieves himself. The wet trickling and splashing is the only noise filling the forest until Negan registers something coming from behind him. From over his shoulder, Negan can hear the crunching of decomposed leaves and he smiles slyly to himself. 

“Shit, if you wanted to see my dick, all you had to do was ask, baby,” he calls out snidely. “No need to watch me take a leak like some pervert.” 

Negan chuckles to himself at his own stupid joke, though the humor starts to fade as he’s met with nothing but silence. Turning around to see why he’d received no response from Jo, the surprising sight he’s met with knocks him off his feet. Literally. 

The growling walker had managed to make so little noise that it’d snuck up on Negan and ambushed him with no warning. The attack had virtually come out of nowhere and left Negan totally defenseless. Tumbling to the ground under the weight of the hungry monster, Negan starts to panic. Jo is nowhere in sight and his only means of defense is propped against a tree, mere feet out of his reach. 

With both hands pinned beneath his own body, Negan can’t fend off the walker doing it’s damnedest to chew him to bits. In a last ditch effort to save himself, he yells as loudly as he can, screaming for help and hoping somehow the fearful tone of his words will get Jo to him faster.


	24. Tore My Heart Out

Ice cold terror paralyzes Jo as she hears Negan’s desperate calls for her. She is motionless for only mere seconds before she races with incredible speed in the direction of his voice. Her calves burn with the effort she puts into pumping her long legs, her lungs flaring with adrenaline. A loud scuffling and grunt calls her attention to a section of trees and she screams in alarm when she sees she’s too late.

Just as Negan’s trapped body comes into sight, the clawing walker on top of him pushes close enough to dig it’s rotted teeth into the soft flesh between his neck and shoulder. Negan screams in agony as the corpse tears at his skin and Jo continues sprinting towards him, picking up Lucille on the way. Swinging the bat with a level of strength no human should possess, Jo obliterates the beast pinning Negan to the ground. He continues groaning in pain as Jo pushes the pile of decaying flesh of his body. 

Dropping to her knees, Jo cries out at the sight in front of her. A gory, deep gash peeks out from beneath the collar of Negan’s leather jacket, covering his shoulder and reaching across his throat. His white t-shirt is soaked with crimson and the dark red patch spreads quickly. 

Jo doesn’t know how to comprehend what’s happened so she braces her hands on Negan’s chest, shaking him to get his attention. His eyes roll towards her, struggling to focus on her face. Negan tries to speak but only manages to gasp wetly, gurgling loudly as he chokes on his own flowing blood. 

“No. Negan…no, no, _no_ ,” Jo pleads, scooting closer to the bleeding man. 

She struggles to pull Negan towards her, though eventually manages to yank his shoulders and part of his torso into her lap. She places her fingers gently around his face, cradling his lolling head in her shaking hands. Not knowing what else to do, Jo pets her hands along the skin of Negan’s face, brushing his hair back in a sad attempt to comfort him. Her chest heaves with the panting breathes that pump from her chest. 

Negan’s eyes grow more and more distant as he stares up at Jo. His eyes roll so all Jo can see is the stark white surrounding his pupils and she shakes him again, desperately trying to keep him conscious. His gaze floats sluggishly to her scrunched face and what Jo sees breaks her heart. In Negan’s eyes is something she never thought she’d ever see from him. _Fear_. 

The revelation that Negan is afraid crushes Jo and she feels tears fill her eyes. He’s absolutely terrified and Jo hates that she can’t help him. Even more evident than Negan’s horror is the pain written all over his face. His eyebrows are slammed down in discomfort and his pallid lips twitch as his mouth works to utter any semblance of noise. This is it for him. 

Jo knows there’s nothing she can do now. Negan is finished and he can’t be saved. The thought causes her body to shake even harder and she breathes erratically, reeling into a panic over her inability to aid the dying man. Her distress grows when Negan begins to choke more severely, blood spewing grotesquely from his parted lips to spill down his chin and neck. His face grows increasingly pale and Jo can see how fast he’s fading. 

“Oh my god. Negan, please,” she begs, tears streaming profusely down her cheeks as she sobs the pointless words. Negan splutters pathetically, trying to reach for Jo. She leans close to his face, her ear close to his blood-smeared mouth. 

“I’m sorry, baby…I’m so…sorry,” he coughs, raising a cold and shaking hand to her wet cheek. 

The weight of the words isn’t lost on Jo. The mere fact that Negan is finally _actually_ apologizing to her lets her know just how frightened he is. It’s the only time she’s ever heard him genuinely apologize and the sincerity in his words completely destroys her. 

He _knows_ he’s dying. He wants to make things right. Things from the past and things he’s going to be sorry for in the future, even after he’s gone. Negan knows his careless mistake and inattention is going to cost Jo. She’s going to be alone out here because of his split second of neglect. 

Deep down, Jo knows what else he’s apologizing for. When he dies and turns, she’s going to be the one who has to put him down. She realizes then that she doesn’t know whether she can. 

“Be strong for me, Jo,” Negan gulps out, his body growing progressively weak from the loss of blood. 

The hand pressed to Jo’s cheek drops away as Negan’s arm falls limply to his side with a dull thud against the soft ground. His breathing is growing frighteningly shallow as more hot blood continues to pour from the gaping wound on his neck. The copious flow of blood soaks Jo’s pants, the warm liquid staining the skin below. When Negan’s head flops languidly in Jo’s arms and his eyes roll back again, Jo gathers him closer. She claws desperately at his jacket, pulling him tight to her chest as she sobs in despair and fear. 

The sorrowful cries fall endlessly from her lips and grow louder with each passing second as she watches Negan slip away right in front of her. Before long, Negan’s chest ceases it’s rapid rise and fall. His lungs fall dormant as he takes his last breath and the light fades from his golden eyes. Jo wants to scream and yell and shake Negan until he wakes up, but she knows it’s useless. She feels sick. She feels helpless. She feels lost. 

Overcome with a numb and empty feeling, Jo slides her feet out from under her, stretching her legs out and settling into the damp earth with Negan’s heavy, lifeless body draped over her thighs. Her salty tears dry on her face as her moist eyes stare ahead, looking at nothing in particular though consciously making an effort to avoid glancing at her fallen companion. 

Negan’s body begins to go into atrophy in what feels like mere seconds. Though Jo knows she’s been holding his body for hours, the tightening and constricting of Negan’s muscles comes far too soon. She isn’t ready. 

She knows what is coming and she dreads it. While she expected the transformation subsequent to Negan’s passing, she had not predicted or prepared for how incredibly fast it would happen. Jo spends a few final, brief moments with the cooling corpse of her counterpart before she feels the first quake of muscles twitching against her own. 

A rasping breath. A gurgling growl. _It’s happening_. 

Jo whimpers desperately, not wanting to face the unimaginable task she knows she must complete. When Negan’s body shifts more enthusiastically with reanimation, she edges her way out from beneath his stirring form. 

Looking down, the cloudy milk-white color of his pupils chills her. Long gone is his swirling, warm tawny stare. Negan’s body is active once more and – for a moment – that fact almost makes Jo feel better. Almost as if he isn’t truly gone. But she knows he is. This Negan is not her Negan. 

When the garbling corpse of the man she once knew rolls to it’s side and starts gnashing it’s teeth at her ankles, Jo finally backs up. Grabbing Lucille off the ground, she holds the bat out in front of her. She uses the weapon as a sort of prod to keep some distance between herself and the flesh-hungry walker climbing to it’s feet. Jo’s window of opportunity to put Negan down once and for all has shut and she curses herself for being too weak to do it while she had the upper hand. 

Continuing to back away from the advancing corpse, she imagines Negan scolding her for being so careless. The sound of his deep, smooth voice rattling around in her jumbled head nearly sends Jo back to her knees. He’d certainly have reamed her ass for hesitating and letting an undead fucker get up when she’d had the perfect chance to kill it. The reminder of the man and his strict discipline and no-bullshit attitude has a fresh wave of tears spilling from Jo’s eyes. 

She mentally berates herself for her naïve attachment to Negan. She’d always told herself caring is not an advantage in this world and she’d proven her belief to be true. Negan probably would’ve scolded her for this, too; told her off for being an over-emotional little girl. Still, regardless of her acknowledgement of her stupidity and weakness, she can’t bring herself to raise the barbed bat to Negan’s skull. She can’t do it.


	25. Decay

Growling through her teeth, Jo moves away from Negan. She’s afraid and frustrated, but she doesn’t have it in her to destroy Negan like this. Walking slowly enough that Negan’s cold, dead eyes can still follow her movement, she circles in a wide arc around the trees. He follows Jo at an ungainly speed and when he’s far enough away from the abandoned bag left propped beside the tree, Jo makes a run for it and snatches it up.

Jo digs hastily through the mostly empty bag, locating the bundle of coarse rope she knows is buried in there somewhere. Her hand wraps around something cold and solid and she realizes her old knife is inside the bag. She tucks the blade into her waistband and pulls the rope out, still moving slowly away from Negan’s trailing corpse as she fastens the length of rope into a makeshift lasso. It takes several attempts, but eventually Jo manages to toss the lasso around Negan’s neck. If she can’t kill him, she’s at least going to keep him where she can see him. She isn’t willing to have him sneak up on her and attack. 

Acting purely out of selfishness, Jo makes a difficult decision. With Negan in this condition, she can’t continue on her own. She needs to find somewhere to go and someone to help her. Knowing that the only hope of nearby safety is Alexandria or the Sanctuary, she turns in the direction she and Negan had come from and sets off into the woods. Going back to either community with her tail tucked between her legs isn’t something Jo particularly wants to do, but she knows she has no alternative. If she wants to live, she has to return. 

Jo can’t remember the exact path she’d traveled and with no means of real navigation, she has to pick a general direction and hope for the best. If she can at least find a road or some sort of landmark, she can probably find her way back. Hopefully her return will be met with little to no friction and she can reintroduce herself into the community. 

When the blazing sun retreats in the sky, Jo decides to stop for the night. She doesn’t expect to get much sleep, but any rest is better than none. With the long wooden bat still clutched in her hand, Jo prods the blunt end of it against Negan’s chest, holding him back as she loops the free end of the rope around a slender tree and knots it tightly. Jo watches him, making sure the rope is tied securely. 

She observes him wobbling aimlessly across the small expanse of ground he can traverse before the rope pulls at his torn throat, then chooses a spot far enough away that he can’t reach her. Curling up in the dirt, the sounds of Negan’s crunching footsteps and guttural sounds keep her awake, but eventually the noise manages to lull her into sleep. 

Jo is awoken by a series of thumping footfalls and she jumps quickly to her feet to scour her surroundings. Her eyes fall on Negan where he’s pulling roughly at the rope around his neck and stumbling backwards with each jerking movement. With a sigh of relief that she isn’t under attack, Jo grabs Lucille, again using the bat to keep her distance from Negan as she unties the rope from the tree and releases Negan. Upon waking up, everything seemed like a dream to Jo, but now she realizes she’s actually living in a nightmare. Here she is dragging her dead lover around like some sort of disgusting, rotting pet. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

The fiery Georgia sun beats down on Jo’s weak body for hours on end. Sweat drips off her brow and into her eyes, stinging and blurring her vision. The salty perspiration coating her skin trickles down her arm and under her loosening bandage, burning the raw flesh and open wound beneath. 

She’s lost track of how many days she’s been trudging aimlessly through the woods. More importantly, she’s lost track of the last time she’s had any form of sustenance. Too occupied with keeping an eye on Negan and determined to get somewhere safe, she’s failed to take care of herself. Her neglect is proving to be a massive mistake and Jo kicks herself for not being more vigilant. 

Jo’s steps grow more and more unsure and unstable. She stumbles through the brush, her body too weak to function correctly. The throaty gurgles from over her shoulder occasionally remind Jo that she has to keep moving, no matter how much she wants to curl up and rest even for a moment. Her resolve to keep going at any cost is going to be her downfall. 

Delirious with hunger and exhaustion, Jo prays that the blessed sight in front of her isn’t just a mirage. Several hundred feet away, the sun reflects off a still surface and Jo nearly collapses at the possibility that it’s a body of water. Stepping more steadily, she approaches the source of the reflection and a weak cry leaves her chapped lips. For a moment, she merely drinks in the vision before wobbling feebly through the trees. 

With her mind preoccupied with the acquisition of hydration, Jo nearly forgets about the walking corpse attached to the other end of the wrap gripped in her hand. Whirling around, she sees enough distance between her and Negan that she can quickly tether him to a tree. Not paying much attention to her roughshod knotting, Jo haphazardly ties Negan up before stumbling towards the small lake. She drops to her hands and knees at the bank, crawling her way to the edge of the water. 

The water is dirty, murky, and frankly disgusting, but Jo is far too desperate to care. Plunging her arms up to the elbow into the lake, she cups her hands and scoops handfuls of water to her mouth. Slurping loudly, she swallows down massive mouthfuls of the cool liquid. It tastes muddy and vaguely metallic, but it quenches her thirst and cools her overheated body wonderfully. 

Once she’s had her fill of water, Jo splashes the gritty liquid all over her face, rinsing away the layer of sweat masking her skin. Bent over and sloshing noisily in the lake, Jo registers the low sound of a rattling growl from nearby, but by the time she reacts it’s too late. 

A massive weight knocks her into the muddy bank of the lake, squishy moist dirt all over her front as she flails wildly. Somehow managing to roll onto her back, Jo looks up in horror at Negan’s drooping flesh. Negan attacks her viciously, his teeth snapping together as they gnash in Jo’s face. The putrescence of his rotting flesh fills her nose, making her gag violently at the offensive odor. Globs of odious saliva drip onto Jo’s face and chest as Negan presses closer and closer to her flesh. 

Making a split second decision, Jo grunts as she wiggles a hand between their bodies to tear the knife from her waistband. She struggles for several long seconds to remove the leather sheath from the blade before finally managing to free it. Using her screams of despair to power the disagreeable deed, Jo pulls her arm back before thrusting it forward and plunging the long blade into Negan’s skull. 

She continues screaming at the top of her lungs as thick, coagulated blood oozes from the hole in Negan’s cranium and dribbles down Jo’s arm and under her slackened bandage. Too upset by having just killed Negan, Jo doesn’t even register the searing pain burning through the open wound as the fermented blood invades the exposed flesh on her forearm. 

With Negan motionless and dead for good, Jo presses her clammy palms to his waist and flips his body off of hers. Looking down at him, she spots something peeking out from above his belt. She slides over to him and pulls at the object, surprised when she yanks out a small pistol. She’s even more surprised when she recognizes the firearm as her own. Negan had kept it after taking it from her and he’d had it with him ever since. Flipping the barrel of the pistol out, she’s relieved to see that Negan had reloaded the weapon while it was in his possession. 

A humorless laugh flits over Jo’s lips as she drags her frail body and slumps against a fallen tree with the gun in her hand. As the adrenaline wears off and her brain registers the stinging in her arm, Jo realizes her mistake. The infected blood from Negan’s corpse has soaked her dangling bandage and permeated her injury. Tears begin to flow from Jo’s tired eyes once she accepts that it won’t be long before the infection absorbs into her bloodstream and takes over her body. 

Crying even harder now, Jo cackles maniacally at the irony of the situation and the pressing sense of déjà vu given her current position. Cocking the hammer of the gun, she lifts it to her temple. Sparing one last glance at the corpse in front of her, she squeezes her eyes shut as a relieving sense of calm blankets her. 

For a moment, Jo recalls all the various times Negan had promised to kill her. In the end, he had finally followed through; he’s entirely responsible for Jo’s demise. Snorting out a laugh, she shakes her head lightly in disbelief. With one last deep breath, Jo gradually increases the pressure of the finger looped around the trigger. 

Subconsciously, she finds herself hoping that if there is some kind of afterlife, she’ll find Negan there – waiting for her, smug and gloating. The ridiculous and annoyingly charming man is the last thought that floats through the recesses of Jo’s brain before a loud bang and an immense explosion sprays them across the decaying leaves of the forest floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total disclosure…I’ve only seen season 7 of TWD (because JDM) so I’m not 100% sure how the whole zombie transformation thing works even though I’m pretty positive you have to die to turn. But this is fiction so let’s pretend getting zombie blood in your bloodstream is enough to turn your ass into a walking corpse..for the sake of DRAMA.
> 
> Anyway. This is it. The end. My first complete story. Thank to everyone who came along for the ride and left feedback. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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